Well, Sure It's Spring, Sort Of.

I went outdoors with the intention of weeding but it's cold out there.

The only way to justify not weeding was to whip out the camera and capture the essence of an eastern spring. Actually that's hard to do since we don't have one.

I recall my childhood in the west; lilacs burst out in fat blooms, tulips and daffs came and went quickly to make room for summer.

In the east, things are different.

The tulips and daffs have a tough time struggling through snow, thaw, ice, thaw, torrential rain, dry-out, so they stick around embarassingly long, until August.

Here are the miniature daffodils in the back. God knows they're trying.


And here's a bit of action in the front, facing north.


This is the Mama frog I've toted around since a visit to Vancouver Chinatown thirty years ago. she's holding up the daffs while they recover from the last heavy rain. I accidentally plunked her on top of some new bulbs last fall so things will right them selves in time.



No matter, we adore this funny right of passage and we appreciate every sunny day we get. That's why we don't move to another climate.

Harry would like a piece of the action.

Another time, fella.