Too Early for Spring

But no one has told
snowdrops (in all fairness, last year they bloomed winter to fall)
Lenten roses
crocus
daffodils
fuchsia
cherry
forsythia
star magnolia

What am I leaving out?

Oh yeah. A freeze.

Bound to happen.

A Note from Home

Hi Gay,

I know you're enjoying Paris and all the art, architecture, wine, chocolate, pastries, and sauces, but I thought you might like to see what you're missing at home.

Miss G is still yapping up a storm, the campus is (thankfully) quiet, and the flowers are popping out in Abbo's Alley. 

Today I saw daffodils, Lenten roses, those sweetly scented delicate white and yellow viney blooms (whose name I never remember), hyacinth, bluebells, crocus (the last ones), snowdrops, Virginia spring beauties, and a fully budded trillium poking out of a snake hole by the last little stone bridge below the spring. (Oh! And those teeny-weeny little purple flowers running along the ground.) You'll be happy on your next walk here. 

Spring is springing in Sewanee without you!

Your friend,
Robley

The Only Time

the sun shone burst in and out between snow showers, more like glitter bits floating, while I was lying on the ground, facing uphill, in Abbo's Alley, camera jammed into dirt, recording images I couldn't see, but at least the pink on the computer screen melded with the green and bit of blue and bright white of sun rays and made me forget that I had spent most of the day inside, reading other people's papers and offering comments, and counting things and noting them in a marble notebook, and wishing . . . wishing . . . wishing . . . I could walk outside where beautiful things always are.

(Sometimes, a little Photoshop does a person good.)