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The sky is big and irrational this month. In two days, we’ve had sixty degree sunshine, a twenty minute blizzard, glowering clouds, more bright sunshine, fifty mile an hour winds, and intermittent rain. March is not coming in like a lion; it’s coming in like a thirteen-year-old girl. You never know what to expect. One minute you look out the window and it’s like living inside a snow globe. Ten minutes later all is sunny and cheery and bright. The temperature is wildly unpredictable. With the weather going through puberty, I’m drawn to the small things, the calm persistent things, the things that are close to the ground and almost go unnoticed.

Ignoring the big emotional drama of the weather forecast, I can see spring in small pockets in every garden bed. Lots of daffodils and tulips are poking up, but here are the plants flowering right now despite the snow and nighttime frost:

Given enough time, these small things will show how great they can become by spreading and seeding and creating a mass of flowers before anything else blooms. Small things, quiet things, they patiently reveal their beauty and power over many years with very little fanfare. Hellebores, galanthus, and crocuses; harbingers in an otherwise empty moment in the garden. In a big loud world, it’s good to stop and listen to the small things.