It’s that time of year again.
Everyone else on social media has been showing off their “bloomers” for weeks now. But it seems like everything here at our house has blossomed later than usual. Pictures have popped up on my timeline from last year and the year before where the daffodils that we transplanted from my great-grandparents’ place over on Razor Ridge in Grayson County several years ago were already in their full glory. I checked yesterday and they are finally encased in finery, probably set to pop through and show off by early this coming week, if my guess is right.
My guess may be completely off, though. My definition of me being a nature freak is to put me in nature and watch me freak! I really know very little about the natural world around me. My Mamaw Little knew everything about plants and could grow everything and anything that her heart desired. I have managed to keep an aloe vera plant alive all winter, much to my surprise. It even needs a bigger pot. Maybe I’ll do that, now that warmer weather is here…
Our poplar tree seems to have blossomed overnight, though. Seriously. Overnight. Where did these little orange fuzzy things on it come from? I noticed on Wednesday that it had buds, and thought, “Well, those lying robins just might be right! The poplar is usually a pretty good indicator.” Lo, and behold, today, the tree is covered no longer in buds, but in blossoms. Which means that the next thing to be covered will be Rupert, my SUV, and then we will have all the pretty little leaflets.
The tulip greenery is up in full force at the corner of the house going up into the backyard, but I know that it’s too early for those yet. Those definitely come after daffodils.
The dogwood tree has buds, but no leaves yet. And I need to check the redbuds. I know that we get two big cold snaps named after those. I think that Dogwood Winter comes first. Then Redbud Winter. Then Blackberry Winter, but I don’t have any blackberry bushes to measure that one by. I just know that it’s a pretty late cold period. Yes, I think that Dogwood Winter comes first; I’m looking out my office window and our dogwood tree is loaded down with buds. I’m always amazed by how big that tree has gotten, after I drove completely over it with Rupert during one of its early winters here, sliding into a skid going down the front yard, only narrowly avoiding going over the hill into our down-the-hill neighbors’ yard in the process. But I drove over it and it sprang right back up. Resilient little fella! (Of course, it grew a little crooked after that, but that’s a different story for a different day…)
And this weekend, we “Spring Ahead.” I wish that we could just drop the pretense on this whole daylight savings time bit, personally. It’s just inconvenient in the modern era. We all know how to use clocks – except for cows. And they never knew in the first place. I know some farmers and I hear them advocating a lot of things, but daylight savings time really isn’t in the top ten of their most important things they want to let people know about, or that would help them in their work as farmers. All of that does remind me, though, that my bedroom wall clock battery died earlier this week, on Tuesday, at 1:38 p.m. I was going to change it, but then I figured, “I have to do it this weekend, anyway. Why jump the gun?” And see, if I can live for 4.5 days without a correct-reading clock on my wall, I know that I don’t really need daylight savings time. Let sleeping dogs lie and dying clocks die, people. Still change the batteries in your smoke detectors twice a year, but we can come up with some other way to remind people to do that, can’t we? Maybe the 4th of July and New Year’s Eve? I think it’s worth advocating for.
Meanwhile, go look at some flowers in the yard. On the trees, in the ground. Buds, blossoms, bloomers… Those are all worth advocating for, for sure!
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