A few of years ago J dug up a patch of earth on the side of the house facing east where the morning sun rises. We planted a small variety of spring bulbs, some raspberry seedlings given to us by our midwife, and last year we added a large rosemary bush and a rhubarb plant. Now each spring we wait for the bulbs to emerge as our first signs of life in the garden. The crocuses are always the first to bloom. They look so delicate but are hearty little souls, shooting up during the first winter thaws and still blooming after early spring snowfalls.
I would love to have a whole meadow of crocus, snow drops and grape hyacinth to wander about someday. How lovely that would be to laze about among these spring beauties, crafting flower crowns and mandalas in offering to our great mother.
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