I've written this column under some trying circumstances over the years, but never during a global pandemic. I'm reluctant to write any more items about upcoming events, because they might be postponed. The news and recommendations seem to change hourly, with schools and colleges closing down, flights cancelled, stores running out of toilet paper, new cases of the virus being identified.
But despite all the upheaval, worry, contingency plans and plunging portfolios, it's still spring. This afternoon I saw two borough workers filling the sidewalk planters with fresh soil. On my way home I realized I'd be passing the marshy spot where I first hear the spring peepers, so I rolled down my car window -- and they were singing loud and clear! As a friend says, "That's one of my favorite sounds ever."
The forsythia and daffodils are starting to bloom, and Dearest Partner and I spotted the first purple mottled skunk cabbage rising out of the mud just down the road. I'm checking daily for the first sign of valerian in my perennial bed. In contrast, the bleeding heart sprouts are visible from a distance, and this might just be the year the monkshood gets the upper hand on the lamium. It'll be close!
No comments:
Post a Comment