How strange to be homesick for a grey sky. I was under an unfailing blue sky for months this winter – never shovelled a flake of snow, didn’t have to battle ice like my dear friends and relatives here in Montreal. Yet, in April I got restless. I longed to hear the sound of geese returning, to see frail green shoots breaking through the wet cold ground of my little garden. The Spanish camellia bush full of pink blossoms was impressive. The purple bougainvillea tumbling over a wall made a great photo op. Yet, the yellow mimosa made me long for forsythia. Yes, there is nothing like the humble snowdrop to make you realize how strength resides in the delicate things. The crocus that is the first draw to bees is a sign of hope. How can the victory be worth anything if there was no battle.
The downside is that I have a very ambitious fritillaria that is almost ready to bloom and I heard rumours of sleet tonight. Time to make a little newspaper had for my darlings that waited so faithfully for me.
Hello pale blossom.
Hello damp cool green beauty
so frail, so delicate
forcing your frail delicate way up through
dark dense earth.
Hello faint hope, hello rebirth
hello vanquisher of winter,
pale bell that heralds all the rest.
Golden trumpets and scarlet or dark frilled tulips
and later roses, lilies , dahlias and exuberant vines.
You, small and modest are first.
Herald of change, of relief from cold and dark.
Hello snowdrop and welcome.
Spring, I mean. So happy, so relieved, so invigorated! My snowdrops are out. My crocuses are out and the bees are out. I was amazed to see three busy bees hovering around my little purple crocuses. We’ve had terrible rainy and grey weather for at least a week so I wonder where on earth they were holed up. Today, being Palm Sunday, of course, things are pretty Springy and hopeful Now comes Holy Week with its many long and beautiful services to sing. Right in the middle of it is Passover too and so I will be enjoying a nice Seder on Tuesday evening with my dear dear friend. Every season is beautiful and I usually love the one I’m in, but Spring really is special. Hmmm. Winter is good but a bit of a hanger on. He should learn to leave on time. Bees, chase him off for good!
Standing together on a windy morning
the sky full of dark clouds
two white brothers.