Minnesota winters are long. In my home country, it is not unusual for there to be crocus and daffodils in February. Here, however, the first greenish haze doesn't appear until late April. I imagine roots and bulbs nesting in the frozen ground, quietly gathering strength. Their time will come.
When spring does come, everything is ready for it. Listen to the rhubarb leaves crinkle as they unfurl in record time; watch the asparagus muscle its way forcefully out of the ground! I went sniffing around my pot of equisetum, full of hope and excitement, but for a long while it looked as though it might not have made it through the winter. I was all the more aggravated as my friend, who dug it up for me in the first place, told me his neighbour's yard was just about choked by the stuff.
Finally, though, here is some excitement in the form of a robust, multi-tiered green spear poking up into the sun. I will burnish locally, after all!
When spring does come, everything is ready for it. Listen to the rhubarb leaves crinkle as they unfurl in record time; watch the asparagus muscle its way forcefully out of the ground! I went sniffing around my pot of equisetum, full of hope and excitement, but for a long while it looked as though it might not have made it through the winter. I was all the more aggravated as my friend, who dug it up for me in the first place, told me his neighbour's yard was just about choked by the stuff.
Finally, though, here is some excitement in the form of a robust, multi-tiered green spear poking up into the sun. I will burnish locally, after all!
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