How can it be, when it’s only April, that these have popped open in all their splendor? As much as I love them, and all the other blossoming, burgeoning signs of new life everywhere, I’m afraid – frightened that winter is not yet done with us, will roar through these flat plains one more time and slap down all this brave beauty.
I hope, hope, hope that I’m wrong, that it’s just my usual fear and foreboding, the old familiar mistrust that nothing good will stay.
Because anything as brave and bright as these beauties should be allowed to shine, shouldn’t they?
What’s shining in your neighborhood these days?