Irrepressible Spring

The first 2026 Magnolia stellata

Color is returning to the landscape, foretelling Spring right around the corner, just past another cold spell or two, and along with the cheery garden tones rises the mood of ProfessorRoush.  I'm starting to feel the itch, aren't you?  You know which itch that I'm talking about; the itch to get outside, breathe clear air, feel the sunshine on your skin.  The itch to feel alive.

'Meadowlark' Forsythia

Oh, if only the wind would die down just a little more and the sun would shine just a smidge brighter, and the air would feel just a touch warmer on my cheeks!   I don't feel I'm asking for too much; it is not like I expect yet the soil to be warm and moist as I run my fingers into the ground, or that I am disappointed that the asparagus is not yet bringing forth a fresh crop.  These things will come along in their time.  Right now I just want Paradise: sunny days, gentle breezes, thirst-quenching gentle rains at night, and a gradual transition to Spring.  A return to Eden is the eternal dream of Man.

Dutch Iris & complimentary Siberian Squill

But, alas, these brave early explorers, the precocious first open bloom of Magnolia stellata, the vivid yellow blooms of  'Meadowlark' (Forsythia ovata X Forsythia europaea) and 'Golden Times' Forsythia (Forsythia intermedia 'Golden Times'), the shy grape hyacinths (Muscari sp), and the purple Dutch iris (I think?) complimented by the self-spreading squill, these are, all of them, soon to be punished for their boldness.  They've brought joy and light and color into my world at present, but tomorrow's forecast is for snow and 60 mph sustained winds, a blizzard busting in on my celebration.

Grape Hyacinths

I could rave on and on about the necessity of Forsythia in the Spring landscape, even while the yellow hue of most cultivars is seldom perfectly clean enough for my taste.  I could disclose the nostalgic reasons for maintaining this single clump of grape hyacinths in my garden, the descendants of memories brought with me from my boyhood Indiana home, even as they display the ravages of my fickle Kansas climate.  I could lament the brief  display of the Dutch iris blooms near my front walkway or the foolish waste of  the blushing Star Magnolia bloom, destined tomorrow to be merely a brown shriveled husk, if it can be found at all.

'Golden Times' Forsythia

Nay, I will instead speak here only of the gift and the beauty of these flowers, however fleeting.  They are portents, harbingers of  sunnier days and warmer soil to come.  Promising Spring, they prophesize the awakening of the world, a new season of growth, and the banishment of all forms of ice from our lives.  Blooming now, they call me out into the world, they stir my soul, and they awaken my spirit.  I am forever grateful for these first flowers of Spring.