The first warm-up of the year causes a lot of diverse ideas to begin bouncing around my brain.
1. It's too early. Winter isn't over yet--not even close. I'm sure nature will adjust to whatever weather comes its way, but still I worry. I know. Worry is the greatest waste of time known to humanity, but I have to exercise my brain somehow. I suppose I could log on to weather.com and order up the weather I want: "I'll take a slow warm-up starting about the middle of April. A nice six to eight inches of snow to cover the ground until then would be good. And not too much rain once the warm-up begins. My German irises--my favorite--don't like wet feet. Oh, the last frost should be about May 1st." For some reason I can't find the order form on that web site. Hmmph. I'll check back later.
2. The pond is at its deepest. The snow and ice on top have melted, but the pond beneath is still frozen solid so the melt has no place to go. My sister threw some goldfish in the pond last fall. Wouldn't it be amazing if they made it? When the world's economy implodes, can you eat goldfish?
3. I'm always surprised at what survives being covered by ice and snow for weeks on end. The Lenten roses look as green as ever. In fact, they'll be budding and blooming soon--snow or no snow. The hardy cyclamen has even spread under the snow. Weird plant. Blooms in the fall; leaves last all winter and then die back in the summer. Crazy plant has it all backwards. Poor upbringing I guess. The dianthus are fine now that the snow is gone, and they're in planters. Tough little things. And, of course, a couple of crocus have started to emerge. They don't need too much encouragement to show off. So human of them, eh?
4. My land has two temperature zones. The back of the property is always two weeks behind the front. No, really. Similar plants in the back always bloom a couple of weeks after the same plants have bloomed in the front. And it takes longer for the snow to melt out back. And the ground to dry out. In fact, at times, you can walk out back and at the bottom of the "hill," you can feel the temperature drop. It feels as if you're walking into a cave. Nice feeling--in the summer. Maybe the groundhogs have lived there so long that their millions of tunnels have created a Mammoth Cave under my property? I need a meteorologist to explain things to me. Not that it matters, but I have a need-to-understand brain. Which only means that it's pretty empty.
5. I should be able to take Mom outside fairly soon. She has a bad case of cabin fever. Anybody know where I can rent a golf cart or some such two seat vehicle? I'm getting too old to push her all over the property in a wheel chair. Yep, I'm a wimp. She does love seeing all the flowers. And I can't say "no." She is still the boss.
6. I have some work to do before spring arrives. I need to move all the branches that have fallen down back to the brush piles in the wild area. And I have some young trees that are growing in the rock garden by the house. Nature planted them. I don't want them there. Saw time. And I need to cut down some poison ivy plants taking over a couple of the trees I want to keep. Hopefully, they're still dormant. If not, scratch that.
7. And the final idea bouncing around? It won't be long until spring. And then summer. And then fall. And then, winter again! "To everything there is a season." Change is good, isn't it?
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