I tried to tell them, didn't I? But, no, up those crocuses popped, unable to restrain themselves in the sunlight and warm wind, heedless of the cold weather surely yet to come.
And here they are, one mere day later, twenty-four hours older and a phloem's death wiser, shivering in the hail and snow remnants of last night. The cold rains started at 11:00 p.m. yesterday and intermittently spent themselves until 1:00 a.m., leaving a different world to view this morning. Our dog barked continually from midnight to 1:00, probably telling the crocus, in dog language, that they were getting just deserts. Gelato Crocus, anyone?
I wish they'd waited, like the daffodils. I saw the first hint of color on a daffodil bud this morning, but those little yellow fluffs seem to be staying tight in their beds so far. Proving once again that, Kansas daffodils have a higher survival IQ than most of the other Spring flowers.