The waiting game

I'm sure you have heard the phrase, "Wonders never cease." It's a phrase that is used when a child surprises you by cleaning their bedroom without being asked, or tackles the evening dishes while you're busy in another room to finish up a daily chore. The wonder that never ceases to amaze me is the arrival of spring flowers after long, cold Montana winters.

During late winter months, when the sun melts the snow on the flagstone pathways that surround my flower beds, I test the ground by inserting a stick in the earth, hoping to find a soft spot indicating that the soil is thawing and soon spring bulbs will appear.

In England, where I lived from birth through young womanhood, the season of spring unfolds in February with an array of wild yellow primroses and violets, and through the wet winter months wallflowers, pansies, and Christmas roses bloom.

In this northwestern state I wait, and wait impatiently through February, March and most of April for patches of color to adorn my garden. The lack of color through our winter months depresses me. I'm like a mother hen waiting for her chicks to break through their protective shells. "Will the spring flowers ever come?" I say as I watch and poke the earth. Yet I know only to well that when the time is right, the frost will leave the earth, the bulbs will awaken from their winter sleep and green shoots will sprout to daylight.

Then finally my vigil is over. The sun warms the cold earth and delicate green leaves that I have watched for appear above the ground, strong and healthy. This survival of plants, frozen in the ground during the long winter months, leaves me in awe of the wonders of Mother Nature.

To my delight my crocus are blooming early this year, in clusters of soft lavender, intense golden yellow and some are the color of vanilla ice cream. Every day green tulip and daffodil leaves grow tall and soon they will bloom in a flashy array of red and gold. The fern-like blossoms of Jacobs Ladder will follow and borders of purple primroses, deep blue grape hyacinths and white wind flowers will set an array of color that I have so patiently waited for.

The flowerbeds that have been baron of color since the last October's frost will glow and flutter with every breeze. Spring will be here at last, a wonder that never ceases to amaze me.