Today, I’m grateful for the promise that new buds hold.
These buds on our lilac bush are waiting for just the right combination of sun and rain, time and light, to open. The buds are a promise of the beauty to come if we would just have patience. And I’m looking forward to it. 🙂
It creeps across the gardens, filling in more and more space, like a slow motion ocean wave that breaks and washes across the flat sand. It’s early in the season, but I discovered a few of its tiny flowers the other day. 🙂
They always bring to mind my first boss, Mrs. Weston, who called them jonquils. I worked in a greenhouse in high school and had never heard the word “jonquils” before. Seeing them open in my own garden makes me a bit nostalgic. 🙂
Its big, fat flakes accumulate on grass and cars and trees, but in the end it’s no match for the rising temperatures of spring. It’s also a nice change of scenery in the midst of social-distancing and keeping close to home.