In some areas of the country, spring is just around the corner. Late winter bulbs like Winter Aconite, Chionodoxa, Crocus, and the dwarf Iris reticulata will be making their brief appearance. I must be content with the daffodils I purchased at the store. Their cheerful yellow, like big smiley faces, warms my thoughts momentarily; then I remind myself that it is still January. Spring is yet far, far away, no matter how much I wish for its arrival. Of course the arrival of spring all depends on where you live, whether or not the previous occupants planted bulbs, or you, yourself, took up the task of planting them in the last or previous autumns. There is something truly miraculous about these very early spring bulbs. They seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere, thrusting their colorful heads through the snow to tease us out of our gloomy thoughts. Like a friendly smile, they touch that tender place within us and coax out joy and hope, reminding us to never give up; but to “keep on keeping on.” Spring will come.
One day soon, we will look back and the pandemic of the past twelve months will become a distant memory. Life trudges on. Sometimes it seems to barely move and other times it skips or gallops or runs like lightning; but it is always moving. As the very early bulbs begin to die back, they are followed by the early ones – Jonquils (Trumpet Daffodils) Hyacinth, Anemone, and early Tulips. The beautiful thing about bulbs is that they multiply. If you plant ten bulbs this fall, you could easily have twenty or thirty in the second spring following. Their ability to naturalize and cover entire hills and tracts of land, is a reminder of the complex life that lives beneath the soil. They require little care and it is so worth the trouble of planting them, when you are rewarded for your efforts in a few month’s time. They are very much like a surprise gift – or a surprise guest that has come to cheer us. We could all use a little cheering right now. If you do not have bulbs planted near you, purchase some at the store. Then promise yourself to plant some this coming fall. Even if you aren’t going to be there to enjoy them, the bees and early emerging insects will thank you.
