The sun has been shining, but don't let that fool you; it is still COLD out there! At least to me, with my thin southern blood. Oh, I went outside yesterday, thinking to spend some quality time in my garden with the camera. Ha! The first gust of chill wind had my teeth chattering. Today is only marginally better. The following is a view from the arbor garden, down from the patio. Can you feel the cold, even though we have no snow?
Yet spring should be here within six weeks, and I am getting more excited every day. Once Christmas is over, I am done with winter; although, in truth, it hardly gets here till January. So in spite of the wind, I did spend some time yesterday looking for signs of spring. That is not unreasonable; in some years past we have had forsythia, quince, and daffodils in bloom as early as January.
Buds: You have got to be kidding! Have you forgotten those single digit temps we had just a couple weeks ago?
Me: No, I haven't forgotten, but I was hoping...
Buds: Well, we are not crazy. We plan to stay wrapped up nice and cozy, and we suggest you do the same.
Me: So you say, but I know you well enough; with a day or two of warmer temps, you will be peeking out. Then the next minute you will be dancing in the breeze!
Buds: Just like you.
Me: Yep, just like me. I can't wait for spring!
So, I saw no signs of daffodils, and buds were staying inside their wraps, including these:
Most of what I saw yesterday were 2013 dried-up leftovers:
Dried hydrangea blooms lay on the ground amidst fallen leaves.
A dried sedum still holds its head tall.
I found a single hellebore bloom that had poked its head up and then hunkered over, wishing it had not been quite so anxious:
Only little violas were stalwart enough to show their full faces. So delicate in appearance, but surely the bravest of them all! No doubt this is why their common name is Johnny-Jump-Ups!
I have always loved violas. They are the first flowers in my memory. I was three years old, and my next door neighbor Mrs. Jordan had them growing in her back yard. Mrs. Jordan may have been 80 or she may have been 60, but I remember her as being very old and wrinkly in a navy blue dress. She let me wander through her garden, and I was enraptured by the violas' sweet faces, just as I still am today.
Have a great week!