They tell me that mid-winter March in Portland becomes the bride of rain….bulbs peek their heads out to embrace the light while hyacinths adorn the bridal path. Pansies repeat the vows…I do, I do, I do! New growth swells with the hope of spring, fed by the drops of water that collect on every branch, dripping with expectation. The crystal rings of dew shimmer against the green lace moss and nestle safely in the arms of pine boughs. This passion will not again succumb to drifts of snow, for the incandescent kiss of scented blooms are waiting to explode. The wedding gown of softest green is veiled against a misty sky that occasionally with a fleeting show of sun’s ray, burst into virginal clouds of frothy white. Ahhhhhh….spring is wedded to my gardener’s heart.
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