This photo of snowdrops in a planter box is one I took just over a week ago, on Saturday, Groundhog Day. Because I couldn't see my shadow cast across the blooms, I fell prey to believing that not seeing it meant that winter was just about over -- that we wouldn't have to wait another six weeks for spring breezes to be upon us.But oh, silly me, look at what today looks like for those same snowy snow drops in the planter. The poor things are buried past their necks. Even the straggly geranium appears to have given up.
Yesterday we celebrated a dear friend's birthday -- with a nice supper and even a homemade cheesecake. Looking outside this morning, it looked like a yard full of birthday cakes, and all of them risen higher than yesterday's celebratory dessert.
I guess this must be what I get for trying to think like a groundhog.
2 comments:
Oh dear little snowdrops, so fragile and vulnerable. Can we wait for another year for your presence. Seems cruel doesn't it?
Oh, I am counting on them to spring up once the snow melts -- them, along with the crocuses and daffodils and tulips that had all dared to sprout several inches before this weather hit.
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