Spring Is Worth Hoping For
Planting hope on winter’s doorstep
I thought I’d missed my window. A few weeks ago, we had our first snow of the year; usually, this means that the ground will soon be frozen until the thaw comes in April. A bag of daffodil bulbs sat on my shelf, frozen in time in their onion-like existence. Just waiting.
I’ve always loved daffodils. They are one of the first faces of spring, the first bit of green and yellow of an otherwise brown and rainy season. For some reason, I never took the time to plant any of my own, but they brought a smile to my face when I saw them in the gardens of others. I bought them at the grocery store on a whim; why shouldn’t this be the year I planted some of my own?
They have to endure the freeze to bloom; if I didn’t get the into the ground, I’d have to trick them by chilling them indoors. Even then, the ground would still be frozen when their blooming time arrived. What on earth would I do with fifty blooming bulbs indoors?
The sun prevailed, temperatures rose above freezing, and we had a few blessed weeks of a return to fall. I redoubled my efforts to get them into the ground before true winter came.
To plant new life, old life sometimes needs to be removed. The rose bushes I thought I could save this spring had succumbed to disease.
