Spring, interrupted

[muckefuck]

Now that the nights are less consistently freezing, it looks like the natural world is finally awaking from it's slumber. It's been an odd couple of weeks, with flowers frozen in the moment of opening (some slowly withering) as they seem to be vacilating between cutting their losses and going for broke. The hostas in the barren dirt of my back door have been arrested interminably in an array of shapes from fresh shoots to half-realised plants.

The pear trees have made their choice: Mark my words, this will be the weekend to see them in true, transient glory. I saw my first rhozaleas on Monday and a faintly-budding Judas tree over the weekend. In the sheltered garden of a monshu's friend's building, hyacinths are in full bloom and even the tulips are opening at last. It's too bad about the crocuses: The ones which emerged have died and I don't see anything arising to take their place. Luckily, the daffodils appear to have been spared this fate.