I grew up in Wisconsin. I loved the fall leaves, and the balmy summer heat, the thunderstorms, humming cicadas and huge yards of flowers, grassy yards, huge oak and maple and walnut trees, and fields of clover and corn. But I … remember the springs being my least favorite season. The sun would tease with the promise of spring, only for the snow to reappear, and reappear again… and again. Even in late May, one couldn’t be quite safe in assuming the warm weather would hold. I’m in Northern California now, where the gardens begin to bloom in February. Our snowdrops have come and gone. The leaves on our fig tree are growing to the size of dinner plates. The grapevine leaves are unfolding, periwinkles blooming, and the jasmine! Oh my. The jasmine right now is so fragrant it announces itself to passersby whether they are of a mind to pay attention to flowers or not. But I hesitate to loudly proclaim the welcoming of spring as I put up this tulip card. If you’re freezing your toes in icy slush that won’t stay out of your shoes and boots, or gritting your teeth against a biting spring wind that makes your ears ache something terrible, I’ve been there, and I feel your pain. Come visit me. I’ll fix you a cup of tea and we’ll sit in the garden, and I’ll send you back home in time for the peonies to bloom. It’s usually safe by the time the peonies bloom. – Kim
