Spring
There are a few blush colored blossoms on my Tulip Poplar in the front yard and a flush of scarlet azaleas are peeking through my front window. It is rather bizarre considering it is January, but this has been a strange winter in the South. My confused blooms are at risk if a frost or snow blusters through, as it is known to do in mid-February and it will make for a much less spectacular Spring. At least my tulips and daffodils are holding back a bit, so there’s hope.
Spring in the South is a sight to behold. It is why I giddily dig holes in the semi-frozen ground in blustery November, dropping in bits of spring that the ugly tulip bulbs promise me in March. The world goes from gray and browns to chartreuse and magenta seemingly overnight. Lavendar wisteria drapes the telephone poles like a stripper’s boa and the forsythia seems to explode like earthbound fireworks everywhere you look in Atlanta. The gloom of winter departs and leaves behind soft blue skies and sunny days that we look forward to around here. But there is a dark side to all this beauty. Oh yes.
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