Remember Spring

    Was spring that long ago? Now that everything is nearing full growth, remember when the Crocuses kept trying to open despite the continuing snowfall. Spring was a wild fluctuation of weather, warm, cold , hot then snow and freezing. Ah. Then there are some of you poor souls that do not know the joys and sorrows of four (or six or more) seasons a year. Our first summer only lasted two or three days. The second winter was about a week or so. The current summer appears to be longer than the first. You upside down people in the Southern Hemisphere are now looking forward to more of your present winter. Spring was a long time ago.

    Spring is when life bursts forth and struggles to survive. Kay likes those little Violas and She Who Must Be Obeyed cowers me into submission and I bow to her desires. Then, in the spring, they appear everywhere. Self seeded Johnny Jump Ups are everywhere. Between the cracks in the brick sidewalk and those in the pebbled cement slab borders as well as in clumps in the grass. Literally thousands of them.

    Then there are the plants we attempt to propagate by casting their seeds in desirable spots. Some have irresponsible minds of their own. All too often the places we wish to settle with them lie barren and they perversely pop up in strange locations. Why would a Marguerite Daisy prefer the miniscule space between two slabs rather than a nicely prepared bed? Why can't it behave more like the Foxgloves? (That reminds me of a certain musical.) Foxgloves sow many hundreds of seedlings about the parent plant. Too many.

    Marguerite Daisies are annuals where I live. I remember trips to places like Monterrey California where the plants grew year after year to massive dimensions. Just like Poinsettia which are sold as small pot plants at Christmas time here. In constant summer climes they resemble small trees. My Brugmansia may get some six feet tall by the end of summer when I prune it and bring the potted plant indoors for the winter. A local garden nursery has a mother plant that is a small tree. Wish I had a large greenhouse.

    In the spring, the early woodland flowers are in their glory, before later growth covers the ground. Our

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