Today I am determined, in spite of the twenty plus mile-per-hour winds, to mark out the garden beds that I intend to dig, and scatter poppy seeds and columbine seeds ahead of tomorrow’s expected snow. I love rain. It is one of my many favorite things; however, in this arid climate it is a rarity indeed. I must settle for snow, but I am grateful for precipitation in whatever form it chooses to arrive. I really do not mind the spring snows. They are filled with precious moisture that seeps into the soil and gently coaxes the seeds to germinate. Later, with the sun to warm them and if they are spared from freezing in this harsh and fickle weather, they will delight me with lush growth and flowers.
There are so many wonderful shades of green. Perhaps that is why St. Patrick’s Day is celebrated in March. Green is a color of hope, but without the white stuff and the brown soil, we might never know the peaceful calm of green. White, like all colors, has its place. Without the clouds, the sky would be dull and not very interesting. I do love the clouds. In fact, I find the snow to be quite beautiful. It is only the accompanying cold that I find so distasteful. White is beautiful in its own right. Someone has figured out that white picket fences do a beautiful job of showing off the green, along with the many hued flowers.
A part of me is resisting the snow that will soon be falling again, but I welcome it all the same. Plants and flowers need moisture in order to thrive and I need them all. I choose to remain snug and warm within my own seed coat until the storm has passed. There will probably be a few more storms before winter has had his final say in the matter; but soon the sun will come out to warm me and the winds will blow themselves out, so that my garden and I can truly blossom.
