A Wildflower Morning

My son was out today photographing the first crocus of spring.  I thought many of his photos turned out just lovely.  He was really working hard for some good macro photography.  There are more at his blog today, just in case you don't have any blooming yet at your house.

Snow??? Big blobs were smacking down, mixed with rain, just the other days, surprising us all.  Of course they melted quickly, but it sure was interesting to see it pour down. April flowers in the background included.

We have reached my favorite time of year, when the flowers start blooming.  As the King Solomon said, "Lo, the winter is past..." Song of Solomon 2:11.  I say "Yipee!  We made it to spring once again!"  Everything seems to be coming to life.  And even I seem to come back to life when the temperatures start to warm. This week I have enjoyed several shirt sleeve afternoons with a shovel, turning soil, throwing weeds in the wheel barrow, freshing up my flower beds.  My kids and the kitties too came out to join me.  We planted a whole packet of Sweet Alyssum seeds along the garden path.  Several years ago their sweet fragrance pulled me up the path most every sunny day.  This year there will be some once again, all planted before thunder claps and heavy rain sent us flying inside. Enjoy photos of the intensely pink blossoms of my Indian Free Peach, a deliciously sweet, white peach that bears in late September, long after all other peaches ...

Yesterday I found the first crocus of the year, in our yard. The sun was shining then on it's golden petals, polishing them to a sparkle. This morning the sky is overcast, so the little flower is holding it's promise closed, but it is still there, waiting for the sun to warm them again. Yesterday, after savoring crocus yellow, I searched for more signs of spring. It was very quiet outside, no wind, no tractors in the field, no cars on the road, no tweetering finches. Everything was so very still, so I could hear the first sounds of spring. Last fall our elegant maple trees let down their leaves to insulate the flower beds against the winter cold. Most of the leaves blew away in the stiff December winds, to compost in some distant field. But some remained to shelter the daffodils and narcissus bulbs until February began to warm. I stood there listening, my ears drawn to faint trembling, the sound of bulbs pushing green leaves pushing promise up through last summer's re...

Everything is so fresh outside and full of life. The air is full of sound, but it the noise of peace and praise. Sparrows, robins, meadowlarks, mourning doves, crickets all singing the song God gave them to sing. Something swelled up in my heart as the freshness filled my lungs and sight. Green bursting forth from the once cold soil. Flowers in simplicity and purity grace the garden. I could stay out here for hours, wandering slowly so as not to miss a single joy. I almost missed it though. I almost didn't go outside. I almost stayed inside loaded down with the cares of the morning: dishes, dirty counters, kids who can't find their socks, phone calls, messy piles of clutter. The to do list stretched beyond my sight. There is no way to get it all done in one day. "Work hard and fast," my mind says. "Come and see," the birds call. "Come," my God calls. Come and spend some time with me. All of this freshness, warmth and beauty are cre...