Yesterday hit 82 degrees, instantly bringing out the first blooms of the season – and they happened to be blue. These little Scilla bulbs are usually the first into blossom after winter, and often they’re ragged and torn from wind and snow and ice. This year they’ve been largely unscathed, though I’m not holding out hope that such pristine delicacy will last (there were whispers of snow in the forecast sometime in the next few days). For now, they are a welcome beacon of spring – and the one spot of color in a brown and barren yard. Even the Lenten rose has delayed its arrival, still huddled close to the ground and slumbering beneath a layer of oak leaves.
The photos give a greatly exaggerated idea of their size and stature, but in my mind this is how big and impressive they feel, especially when nothing else is brave enough to be in bloom at this stage. The largest bloom in actual size is about the size of a dime. That such a tiny thing can have such an impact will always impress my mind and thrill my heart.
