How do you know when spring has arrived? To some, it is the milder weather. To others, it is the singing birds. For me, it’s the blooming daffodil.
Every year I catch myself peeking into people’s yards, looking for happy blooms trumpeting the arrival of spring. I spotted them over a week ago and breathed a sigh of relief: spring is here.
It seemed to elude my yard, though. My flowers are always late bloomers. I suspect they take a little longer because our yard is shaded by pines in the east and giant oaks in the west.
This past weekend the daffodils in my backyard finally joined the chorus of early blooms. They were followed by pink camellias.
The weather has been all over the place this past week, but the birds are serenading us on warmer mornings. Pinecones are thick with pollen around the neighborhood, and yesterday, we glimpsed a carpenter bee resting on the car door.
It looks like Punxsutawney Phil got it wrong this year. Winter is over, y’all. Spring has arrived.
