As the soil warms and the first bulb shoots break through, all signs point to spring on Plot 29
The anxious scan along a row, the concerned look for broken soil. There is something almost like parenting about planting and sowing. Never more so than with spring bulbs. Burying hopes in dank cold earth, covering them with care. Worrying about them buried for months in the frozen dark, waiting for them to break through.
Snowdrops and crocuses are usually first – my concerns switch to whether they are too early. The order of unveiling follows more easily. At home the potted paperwhites are earliest. Stems like small zombie fingers escaping the grave. Next, the daffodils, the Lenten lilies, like hands with nails – bigger, bolder, more confident. Last, the tulips, the earth cracking like from a quake. The fat stems pushing through signal winter is losing its hold.
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