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Here in northern Colorado we are experiencing an abundance of roses.
A rose extravaganza.
A rose marathon.
Everywhere I look, these beauties are blooming their hearts out. In well-tended gardens and along the medians in roadways, the roses are shouting,
“Hey, I’m here. And oh by the way, I am gorgeous!!!”
In my experience, roses do tend to have very positive opinions of themselves. Humble isn’t a word one associates with roses.
It’s been glorious. Every day I smile when I see rose bushes full of beautiful blooms.
What a blessing.
Our spring was dicey.
We had a very small showing of lilacs, and barely a blossom or two on most of the fruit trees. Tulips and daffodills didn’t care for the late May snow. Nor did I as a matter of record.
But now the roses. Oh my goodness!
To me it’s just another reminder that something wonderful is always on the horizon. How does that saying go?
“When one door closes, another one opens.”
Right on, Mother Nature!
Remember when May Day meant taking little bouquets of flowers and/or goodies to your neighbors to celebrate the beginning of spring?
When I was a girl we had great fun taking posies to our friends, ringing the doorbell and then running away. Such fun to hide and watch as the surprise was found.
I don’t know if people even do May Day anymore.
Yesterday was a May Day of a different sort.
No posies to be found.
Instead, we had wet, sloppy snow – and lots of it.
Tree limbs cracked.
Shrubs bent nearly to the ground under the weight.
And gutters ran full of water.
In the pasture, the pond is at risk of flooding.
Only two short weeks ago it was bone dry. And now, it’s full to the brim.
That Mother Nature – what a trickster !
I was having an animated discussion the other day with Mother Nature – the Colorado Division. Actually, animated is the sanitized way of saying I was screaming into the wind.
Okay, maybe I was swearing.
Just a little.
This was happening as I tried to get the hood of my Carhart jacket to stay on my head.
It wasn’t working so well.
I hadn’t brought a hat, and my head, along with the rest of me, was cold. Freezing. Who thinks they need a winter hat in May?
I knew it was cold when Pepper started shivering. It had been raining and the combination of wet and wind was doing a number on my skinny girl.
We were both freezing our #$%^-es off. I was in less danger of that happening than Pepper, but you get the picture. It’s a figure of speech.
I pulled Pepper’s lightweight blanket, which looks like a pair of children’s stretchy pajamas, from the back of the car and covered her.
She was stylin’ and warmer, I hoped. At least she stopped shaking.
The wind was relentless, the sky dark and threatening more rain.
“Okay, I’ve had it with the cold,” I shouted. “When is it going to be spring?”
Mother Nature didn’t say a word. Her reply was to send a blast of wind into my face, knocking my hood off.
Did I mention that I had dirt glued to my lips, embedded in the lip balm I’d just applied? Another little gift from M.N.
Horses know to put their butts into the wind, but on this day it was tricky, because the direction of the wind kept shifting.
You can see Bud’s hair standing up as he was eating. That’s wind, not mousse, giving him the comb over look.
“I want nice weather. I want it to be spring.”
I knew I sounded like a spoiled child, but I couldn’t seem to stop the wailing, the moaning, the complaining. Maybe all that emoting was helping me stay warm.
Bud and Pepper finished eating. I ushered them back into the pasture, packed up the feed pans, cranked up the heater and headed out,
That’s when I started to look around and really see. The pasture was the most gorgeous emerald green, and there were little purple flowers blooming along the road. As I drove into town I saw tulips and daffodils everywhere. It was an explosion of color.
And, the fruit trees. Oh, my gosh! They’ve never been more stunning. The blossoms on the plum and cherry and crab apple trees are thick, fat balls of blooms.
Gardens are coming back to life, as are the people who tend them.
In the background, I could hear Mother Nature. Like a magician about to pull back her cape and reveal something amazing, she whispered to me.
“Wait for it.
Wait for it.
Spring is on the way.