Remember the French revolution? I sometimes wonder how those in the middle of it knew that they were. When it first occurred to them that all the turmoil and upheaval was a revolution. Is a revolution something you can see only in retrospect?
Here in New England, you could ask the same thing about spring. You know you’re in winter all right, when the first deep frost hits and all the leaves and flowers that soldiered on through chilly days and tinges of frost finally surrender and fall to the ground. Done. But spring?
Harbingers
You say crocuses, I say croci
Photo courtesy of Mary D. Birks, 2025
Here we can spot the blue scilla popping up next to the last of the snowbanks, the crocuses tossing their tiny yellow or purple headdresses in a suddenly balmy breeze, a few foolhardy daffodils flourishing their buttery trumpets under still leafless trees, and think we’re in spring.
With my sister’s help, I planted my new permacrop of asparagus Thursday before last. (She dug the trench; I mounded the soil and placed each spidery crown-and-roots combo and covered them up, pat pat pat.) The peony shoots have poked up. I want only another rain-free day to put in the sugar snap peas.
Early morning, April 12, 2025
But then we realize that the rain ricocheting off the car isn’t rain; it’s sleet. (This past Monday) Or we wake up to see snow coming down outside the window. (Tuesday) And snow had covered the ground before I woke up this Saturday morning. Whereupon I realize rain-free ain’t enough for spring planting weather.
Or we think we’re safely out of the woods in May and sailing towards summer, only to lose the cherry blossoms almost entirely, see the magnolia tree forever stunted and the whole region’s apple and peach harvests doomed by one night’s deep and devastating frost. (May 2023) Sometimes the best we can say of a spring is that eventually summer arrived.
When are we in spring?
More harbingers
I went to a demonstration last weekend. One among over a thousand nationwide on the same day. The weather behaved exactly as you might expect in New England early in official-spring: rainy and in the 40s. The Boston Common may have been sprouting daffodils, but you couldn’t see them for the crowd of tens of thousands and the waving blooms of many-colored signs.
Hands Off protest, Boston Common, April 5, 2025
Resist the Broligarchy!
You voted for cheaper eggs, you got measles.
Hands off Social Security.
Stop torching democracy!
Hands off our bodies.
Ikea has better cabinets.
Protect Trans lives.
Due process denied to anyone will become due process denied to everyone.
Give us back our future.
And the one that said it all: I’m here for too many reasons to fit on this sign.
Unlike spring blooms, many of the participants clearly hailed from the autumn end of life. But I did spot some youngsters—even some extremely young ones, like the infant snugged tight to her daddy’s chest. And some not even human ones, like the very large very good boy that daddy held on a leash, one of several dogs I spotted among the participants. You could say we represented a sort of biodiversity of protest.
After the march
Photo courtesy of Merry White, 2025
But is it spring yet?
Only time and our actions will tell.
More actions are coming. For starters, you could check with Indivisible or 50501.org, or with your preferred local activist organization, to find out about them.
Coda
Meanwhile, don’t forget: it’s time to plant your peas, if you haven’t done so already. Summer will be here before you know it. (You may not know it for sure, because the NOAA website serving up local weather station data appears to have lost functionality. MuskRats gnawing?)
Meanwhile, your turn!
If you haven’t already done so, you can sign up for the newsletter, which just gets you an e-mail when a new post goes up. Whether you sign up or not, please feel welcome to post your comments below. I try to reply to every comment, but feel free to answer others’ comments yourself, too. Go for any topic this post or gardening in general inspires you to.
If you’re commenting for the first time using a particular email address, your comment has to wait for my clearance (spam-thwarting at work there). After your first approved comment, your next should go up automatically. If you’re concerned about privacy, you needn’t include your surname. I am the only one who sees your email address.
If others post comments before you, the Reply box for your comment appears after their posts, so scroll down till you find it.
Thanks, as always, for reading, double thanks for responding, and triple thanks if you sign up for a subscription, or encourage a friend to do so.
With you in spirit for both the gardening and the protesting. The courts are in the pocket of administration, so pretty hard situation if you want democratic restoration of rights.
Which we all do, yes? The irony is that only two weeks before the protest, I declared that my marching days were over. Ha. Ha. Ha. Two weeks’ worth of the firehose of abominations sure changed my mind! It was good to be in a large group who care about the same kinds of principles I do. A great reminder that we are not alone.
But also that it won’t be quick and easy. People who spent decades battling for civil rights know that very well.
Apparently, Spring is not the only struggle. Keep those columns coming!
I aim to please. They might get long again, but then, growing season is just about upon us, so it could depend on the weeds….
I was far away, but with you in spirit. In fact I am not sure when I will be in our not so fair country again, to attend a protest or even to visit brothers and friends. Almost certainly no time soon, maybe never.
When/if Spring arrives, let it leave no doubt that Winter is truly over.
Well, just keep stuff growing where you are, Steve!
And as ever, everything is a metaphor for everything else. You inspire us dear sister!
You’re making me blush, Teague!
That rally did get their attention! Notice how noisily they denied that it existed? Glad you came to join the throngs snd very nice and civil they were.
But on a completely different topic: what are the tiny blue flowers coming up under the frost that are not scilla- but aren’t croci or bluebells either? Next to the snowdrops quite often…thank you! And happy Passover!
I’d have to see a picture of those blue flowers to identify them. I don’t think you mean grape hyacinths; those pop up a bit later.
And a happy Passover to you, too!
I didn’t see you at the Hands Off Rally. Too many of us — yay! But are they taking notice?
Forsythia and early azalea’s are blooming here in Cambridge, but it’s too cold and wet for me to go out and appreciate them. I guess the wet is good as we have been in drought.
Oh, you’re ahead of us! No sign of azaleas yet and forsythia are just beginning to peek out. I’m wondering whether the star magnolias in the neighborhood will have survived the several nights’ 26-28 degree frosts.
Sorry I didn’t see you at the rally. Was surprised that I did bump into a few friends there (other than the ones I went with); it was such a huge crowd that that hadn’t seemed possible. Are they taking notice? Well, I figure a golf tournament is the billionaire equivalent of ostrich behavior….