Kiko refuses to acknowledge Daylight Savings Time; his alarm does not reset in the wee hours of March 9. He remains purposefully curled in his bed until actual daylight has worked its way into our house. Accordingly, we’ve been walking later. He has the right idea, I realize. March mornings this year have tended toward the cold and cloudy. A walk at 7 AM is likely to be an exercise in gray. An hour or two later, the world is a brighter, warmer, more welcoming place, and its beauty can be better appreciated.
Two days ago, the daffodils were bowed down by yet another late snow. As the sun warms their bobbing heads on this first day of spring, it’s good to see that they’re none the worse for bearing that chilly burden.
The maple trees are getting the message: it really is go time.
These cherry trees in our neighborhood, in the first stage of bloom, are right on schedule. The National Cherry Blossom Festival begins today in DC, with peak bloom expected April 3 – 6.
Kiko and I walk past these mahonia shrubs nearly every day. Mahonia is a vicious looking plant, especially during late summer and fall. Only Morticia Addams would include it in a bouquet. With its tough, spiky leaves, it resembles holly on steroids. In the very midst of winter, however, it begins to show a gentler side; it bears tiny, pale yellow, bell-like flowers that fill the frosty air with a fresh lemony fragrance. As spring arrives, the flowers give way to lush clusters of oval-shaped berries, much loved by the birds. This particular plant is leatherleaf mahonia, or mahonia bealei. Incredibly hearty, it’s invasive if left unchecked. What began as a single mahonia plant in my parents’ back yard forty years ago is now a tall, rather forbidding free-form hedge. I have a soft spot in my heart for mahonia; like nandina and wild trumpet vine, it reminds me of home. When I was growing up, mahonia berries featured prominently in playtime pretend recipes. Light green when they first appear, the berries darken to purple as they ripen. They have a delicate, powdery outer coating, which disappears as they’re handled, revealing the fruit’s true, more intense color. For this reason, mahonia berries often served as the primary ingredient in the “magic” potions my friends and I concocted. Sometimes, all that stood between life and death in our imagined storylines was a single, glowing mahonia berry.
Walking in the sun with my dog on this first morning of spring, I could feel the new season at hand. The birds were chirping, yelling, soaring, partying. Squirrels were jumping and scurrying with renewed vigor, much to Kiko’s delight. Plants were edging up out of brown, dead leaves, stretching new green shoots into the light. I’m in a mood to buy eggs, baby salad greens and asparagus. This afternoon, I might even get out the Easter decorations. Maybe it will be like the old days, when my daughter looked forward to getting home from school so she and I could dye eggs and gather branches for our Easter tree. Maybe. Spring makes all things new again. We’ll see.
May spring bring new warmth and joy to your life!