Signs of Life

It’s been soggy and gray for days. Finally, the faintest glow of sunshine is gleaming through the veil of fog. The plants and trees are loving every bit of it. I planted something unexpected in each of our garden beds the other day, when it first got warm.

Under the shady pink cherry blossom, a dusty purple helleborus, which I discovered later is also called Lenten Rose. Under the male ginko, a bright pink carnation which Jack had chosen, “for a little pop of color”. And under the golden raintree, a plant with white and purple flowers that we both agree look like squid until they bloom.

I sprinkled wildflower seeds in fresh soil beneath our new young cherry blossom (whose flowers, it turns out, are white), and finally watered the unforgiving prickly pear taking over the containers outside the studio. Where there was a tiny bit of space, I dropped a yellow snapdragon. I don’t know if it stands a chance against the fierce boundaries of the cactus, but I’m from Philly, and here, we know how to root for the underdog.

I hope that, even for the heavy March sky, you can feel it in the air when you walk by. A reminder to take a deep breath and go on.

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