If spring wants to take her time in making an entrance, I can respect that. But that doesn’t mean I won’t push and prod and drag her ass into gear in whatever manner possible. The only sure-fire way I know of healing my winter-torn heart is to visit the local nursery and surround myself with the moist heat of a greenhouse and the fresh palette of spring blooms and foliage. Faddegon’s provides just such a respite from the lingering snow and cold.
I walked quickly past all the Easter decorations, warily keeping an eye out for an Easter-Bunny-in-training. These are perilous times. This season’s seed packets were already on display – a happy sign of good things to come. I held my breath past the fertilizer section, then descended a few steps into the first greenhouse, where palms delicately draped their fronds, and the trendy terrariums collected their drops of dew for the smallest ferns.
Bright splotches of color exploded around me as seasonal primroses turned their sunny countenances upward to the sky. I breathed in the humid air and surveyed the surroundings, so rich with green and freshness. It was the scent and scene of life. The Living. It made my heart glad, and that should be enough until the outside catches up.
