Willow Spring

I have curly willow  sprouting on my dining room buffet. 
So I KNOW it must be spring.
Even though outside, snow is blowing in almost white-out conditions, if only for this one hour.

The unselfish gifts of a fellow gardener are much to be treasured.
These branches came from a generous cousin who just happened to have pruners in his back 
pocket. As with all garden plants that have come to me as 'slips', 'cuttings' or 'handfuls', 
every time I look at the growing version in my yard, I'll be reminded of the giver.
What could be better? 

(Except that fellow who gave me pink primrose. He wasn't a friend, 
though, and the plants were for sale, but this is the only plant
 that I've ever really wished I'd never seen.
Makes sense, I guess.)

We have an old fashioned weeping willow in our front yard already, but
it hasn't sprouted any tender leaves - not yet. I'm watching, though,  for those light green, 
tiny leaves that carry so much emotional weight for me. That special tree is a living memorial, 
marking the life and death of one precious hope. The new pearl-like buds of a willow 
returning to life in the spring reassure me that there is New Life to be anticipated by all His 

We need not mourn without hope!


A Sign

Snowdrops in the Snow


In Contrast

It's still happening. 
Ice storms in March.
Where are the snowdrops?
Are the crocus still asleep under their snow blanket, or did they give up?
Every time I think we're on the downward slope into spring, we head back out 
into the winter wonderland.
The ice on these hydrangea heads did not drip down and form
ordinary icicles ... it skittered sideways instead.
If I had to pick one photo to represent our winter, this would be it. 

Just for a little contrast, a reality check of sorts,
this is what was happening on February 23rd, at the end of another winter.

Instead we have this -

No February squill this year -

But just glance outside to see last year's roses encased in ice - 

These are usually among the first to find their 
way to the sunshine in February or early March - 

Not this time - 

Will the hyacinth ever appear?

Or will we wear our snow boots forever?