I’ve been infused with the bliss of spring since seeing the crocuses emerge from my crappy lawn. Quite a few autumns ago I succumbed to catalog-bulb-buying madness (excellent respite from office annoyances!) and hatched the scheme of burying these spring-blooming flowers in my front yard. It was 30 or so in purple, white and yellow that I stuck in, and now it seems only the purples have persisted. It’s not a grand show. It won’t knock off your socks. But it’s a nice little boost of inspiration as we drag ourselves out of the chill shadows every year.
Then there are these in the garden bed, not the lawn. They are some kind of mammoth crocus, and I have utterly no recollection of planting them. I credit Johnny Crocusquirrel.