Cynthia L. Eppley 04/07/2021
Spring If you’ve been outside at all, you’ll know that spring is upon us, and (hopefully) there will be no more snow.
At least if you live in the Metro Philadelphia area.
And with the coming of Spring comes the flowers. If you have been reading my blogs, you already know that I love flowers. (See Flowers and Their Legacy.)
Yellow isn’t really my favorite color. But how can you resist the upturned fluted bowl of a daffodil?
Sure, there are forsythia. But they are standard fare.
The daffodils range from a soft buttery shade, to a bright sunshine filled sharp mustard. Then there is the variety of orange centers, pink centers….the list goes on.
They seem to be such happy flowers, and they cheer me at the end of March.
By that time, I don’t think I can hold out for Spring much longer.
Winter has drug on and on and on…..
And actually, they pop up in January. But they must know that they will be covered in ice and snow if they should open. So they weather the cold with patience and wait until the fullness of time.
Funny thing about my flowers, and gardening in general:
I post their joyous arrival from the dirt as they tentatively poke their heads up. And every year they seem to push their way through the soil about the same time. Usually within a one week span.
I thought my lungwort had died. We had about 6 weeks of ice and snow and we all seemed to hibernate. My lungwort seemed to be trampled and dead. It usually begins to flower in February.
About the beginning of March, I spied new sprouts coming up and sure enough, new buds and blossoms.
And my rhubarb comes up near the end of February as well.
Sometimes I have to brush away leaves, but sure enough, the green stems and flowers are pushing through.
I am so delighted to see the plethora of colors that I speak to them:
“Well look at you! Welcome!”
And I post them on Social Media.
This is like my gardening journal as I chronicle the arrival of each plant in my garden. People almost expect me to post the pictures.
When I ask who is ready for Rhubarb pie? There are many takers.
Fullness of Time
What amazes me about my garden is the reliability of each species.
Each has its’ own growth path and season.
Before their arrival, the garden is stark and bare, a flat brown canvas hiding a treasure beneath its crushed leaves.
It is almost like “The Strange Magic” of Narnia that bids it come forth in its’ time.
Ecclesiastes 3: 1-2
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot.
What if each of these plants is destined to burst forth in it’s own time? What if each is individual in color, form, and even purpose?
What if none of this is random….at all?
I’ve just come in from gardening, and it is a perfect day for it.
It’s also the perfect time: digging up perennials and splitting them must come early in the season. And I, impatient as I am, eagerly dig up clumps and carry them unceremoniously to a new home.
“Great is Thy Faithfulness” is a classic Hymn of the Faith and it speaks to the Rhythms of the Seasons:
Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest, Sun, moon and stars in their courses above, Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.
Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided— Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!
Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong recorded “What a Wonderful World” in 1967:
I see trees of green Red roses too
I see them bloom
For me and you
And I think to myself What a wonderful world!
All is Right with the World
The long winter is over.
Spring has come.
It is the time for gardening.
But as I look at my daffodils, and emerging plants, I am reminded again of the Creator who has set all things right in “The Fulness of Time.”
He is ever faithful.
And my joy is full as I remember:
“God is in His Heaven, all’s right with the world.”
2 thoughts on “Of Daffodils and Spring”
I so appreciate the lessons you shared from your garden. Particularly this resonated with me, “Before their arrival, the garden is stark and bare, a flat brown canvas hiding a treasure beneath its crushed leaves.”
It teaches me to look at the world around me from this perspective; to seek our Creator’s purposes and have eyes to see the treasures hiding beneath the surface.