I can't wait.
I mentioned the other day that I had seen my first snowdrops. Today, I saw my first tiny yellow flowers, popped up each by another near one of the trees at the corner of my house. In search of one gold, I stumbled upon another, and it turned me into a naturalist in my own sideyard, listening to my landscape before the going of the light. I fear for these wee flowers, because surely it's not going to stay so warm; surely the spring is not yet underway. And yet, look: they are so determined; all their biological makeup is trying so hard. Around the front of the house, there were patches of yet-to-bloom snowdrops, looking somehow subaqueous, making me feel like a diver, exploring; all of these flowers are right where the morning and afternoon sunlight lands and stays for hours, which must be encouraging them along at least a good month in advance of schedule. Daffodils are spearing up all over town, too, inch by green inch.
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