It's one of those priceless days: when spring first peeks her head around the corner of the house and winks mischievously. Yes, last week we had two inches of snow on the ground, and today is was just over 70 degrees, with the first warm, lush breeze of growth in the air.
I looked out the window as we were schooling today, and the meadow outside our back fence is green with promise. Most of the year it is either brown or purple or white; now it is the first shy green we see in early March.
Sheri presented me with a fragrant pink hyacinth today, in honor of my birthday (and a single-soze bottle of merlot, but that's for later enjoyment), and it's sweetness is another promise of spring. I walked around holding the small potted flower, breathing in its scent with almost every breath. I finally watered it and laid it on the window sill. I know the perfect place to plant it when it's spent all its glory.
The warmth of the day demanded a watering of the flowers. Although I inwardly curse the wascally wabbits who so enjoy my hard work, I see red beginning to peep out of my tulip leaves. I still need to cut back two roses (put that on this week's list!), and much weeding needs to be done, but the primroses are spreading out across the beds as planned and hoped for. The lavender and thyme that I hacked back a few weeks ago are showing promise of new growth. The roses aren't forthcoming yet, nor are the lilacs or the irises, but my first daffodil is blooming in the back garden, and all the rest are ripe and ready to open this week. The yellow is showing through the pale green, and they look plump and ready to pop -- almost like a woman in her ninth month. And Keith will plant our peach tree tonight.
The first day of open windows .... The first daffodil .... The scent of hyacinth in my living room where the sun is streaming in, warming the bones and the heart ....
This is what spring is about.