Everyone experiences Spring differently depending on where they live. Here in
Massachusetts the seasons are, as usual, being
Winter still hangs on with thirty degree temps at night, and Spring is being annoyingly shy. Silly behavior considering how welcome she will be. If parades and noise makers would do the trick, we'd strike up the marching bands in a heartbeat.
|Our arbor still looks like an illustration out of Edward Gorey.|
The forsythia is only beginning to bud, and the phlox is still grey with winterkill. Nevertheless, in my world the signs are subtle, but they're there if you know what to look for.
Outside the YMCA, the piles of mulch have grown to epic proportions.
serving three houses - is molting bits
and pieces of itself thanks to the town
The deer have begun work on the
new buds as they appear.
|Note the neatly (deer) clipped ends of the hydrangea.|
Our wood pile is dwindling.
And the spring run-off has created the
yearly temporary brook through our
There are also the more traditional signs:
|Literally the only bloom in the yard.|
|A baby hosta? I can never remember|
what's in the garden from one year
to the next.
But we're not quite there yet: