Spring
nearly passed me by.
Several
weeks ago near the beginning of March, I was driving to one of my many health
related appointments when I was jolted out of my foggy, cold infested brain by
the sight of a mass of delicately pink-tinted blossoms on trees lining both
sides of the street. “My god” I whispered “cherry blossom time and I almost
missed it” Not only did I almost miss it but already they were just slightly
past their first full bloom. Now we all know-especially us girls- about passing
“first full bloom!” Don’t the poets warn us often enough of the speed of
passing time, first bloom and beauty?—“gather ye rose buds while you may-“etc. Haven’t
we all read the comment in Jane Austin’s “ Sense and Sensibility” by Marianne Dashwood's stepbrother lamenting the loss
of first bloom in her cheeks because of being heartbroken by that dastardly Mr.
Willoughby, thereby losing her chance of catching a rich husband? I thought
hard about all this and decided to ignore the misery of my lingering “Victoria
Winter Cold” and venture out into the new spring and look up my favourite
haunts with “full blooms” Firstly, and thank goodness not too late, I found the
mossy high bank by the old St Mary’s church next to the kindergarten where the
shy crocuses bloom. There they were shimmering in the wind wrapped up in their
fuzzy blankets. Next I ventured down the lane by the Elderly Gentleman’s
perfect garden where I found nestled in the corner, two perfect beds of
primroses in rainbow colours. I had, of course, seen snow drops in February
but that seemed eons ago. Next I found the camellia tree in full lush blooms
which were already turning into a death -like brown as decadent as only
camellias can be. The heather in various rockeries around Oak Bay
bloomed in their tweedy Scottish colours and a blanket of blue flowers covered
a hillside along a rocky path I like to walk. The yellow daffodils were a month late
this year and now they are waving bravely in the March wind. These are not my
favourite spring flowers- unlike Wordsworth who “wandered through them lonely
as a cloud”. The daffodil cannot replace my affection for the crocus
which reminds me of the joy I felt as a little prairie girl discovering my
first pale shivering purple one peeping through the melting snow-the harbinger of a
delayed Alberta spring so looked forward to. Somehow I have overlooked the
overblown rhododendron-thank god for spell-check- but I am still in the
delicate state brought on by lingering winter illnesses and don’t think I can
handle such passion. I have watched daily the wild apple trees in my back lane
come to full bloom and yesterday I passed the elegant tulip tree-this gladdens
and saddens me for this is the beginning of the end of early spring. Soon the
tulips will open and then the blessed lilac- the Mother’s-day gift from nature
will be here. This all sums up, for me, the spring that I nearly let pass me
by. Let this be a lesson for me and you, dear reader, not to let the misery of
physical discomfort such as the lowly cold for example, pass by the opportunity
to enjoy life’s many gifts. Oh yes! My cold has disappeared. By the way,as a post script , "First blooms "are important but the poets have failed to write about the later ones which get better and more enjoyable and quite frankly, I am enjoying my latest "bloom" best of all.
