Well, as much as I love beautiful, fluffy, flaky, crystalline, icy snow, I think it really stinks when it's supposed to be Spring around here. Its timing is waaaay off. We need daffodils and tulips and magnolias and nest building sparrows twittering amid the buds on our maple tree. I need to wash clothes and hang them on our clothes line. My daughter needs to be able to transplant her flower seedlings outside.
My husband loves to initiate projects with the kids. He and my son are going to build an 8 ft. trebuchet and launch things with it in the Summer. (No, I'm not concerned, why do you ask?) Any way, he thought he could help my daughter plant up some flower seeds and we'd see what happens with them. It is her job to water them and see how they're progressing. She's doing a great job of it.
My husband set up a long table in the living room, displacing our other furniture--because this is more important, that's why--in front of the windows where the seedlings will get some needed light. And, there they're growing beautifully in the egg cartons we saved from the farmers, and the plastic trays our friend Neo-agrarian lent us (and thanks for the seeds too!).
Let's look at these hopeful, bright, tender shoots leaning hard into the light. Grow little ones, grow!
Look how earnest and innocent they are:
This one still has the seed attached...
Look at this beautiful leaf growing into form.
And here, past this micro grove of seedlings, on the other side of those windows, you can see snow piled up on the bushes outside.
It's in the crooks of trees where mighty branches join up with thick trunks.
It's on the buds that are setting out their maple propeller seeds that will litter our lawn in a few weeks time.
And, the snow is on my clothes line.
This one still has the seed attached...
Look at this beautiful leaf growing into form.
And here, past this micro grove of seedlings, on the other side of those windows, you can see snow piled up on the bushes outside.
It's in the crooks of trees where mighty branches join up with thick trunks.
It's on the buds that are setting out their maple propeller seeds that will litter our lawn in a few weeks time.
And, the snow is on my clothes line.
Springtime in the Chicago area is a fickle thing and always has been. How I am lulled and seduced by the first hints of it every year is amazing to me. Why, why, why do I never expect any more snow after we've had our first freakishly warm day of the 70's way back in March? Why? How do I not learn from my mistakes of the past?
It will ALWAYS snow again. Always. I must remember that and never forget it again.
It will ALWAYS snow again. Always. I must remember that and never forget it again.
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