Thursday, March 05, 2009

In Like a Lion

I had almost forgotten among the new words and phrases I have been learning that some of the old ones that I learned as a child still fit. "March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb," we said when the cold winds of winter roared into our winter-weary ears and the snow landed on the daffodil buds. There might be a lamb-like day on March 1, but if so, before the week, the lion would rear its head.

We had here a splatter of snow and then a benign day, but last night, despite a soft breeze, the air had a cold bite to it. I dressed in an extra layer, heard the old shingles pain kick into gear, and did my best to ignore it on my way to stained glass class. When I came out, the air was still but crisp and cold, ice had etched itself like graffiti on my windscreen. With a start I remembered the plants still sitting in my car. Along with my weary self, I would have to trundle them indoors for safekeeping from this too sharp cold.

So three different heathers, London pride sitting contentedly in a tray, tiny Alpines destined for the rock garden, and miniature -leaved plants in pots waiting for the spring as eagerly as I am were toted into the attic at the rear of the house--certainly not warm enough to raise their expectations, but out of the worst of the night's chill.

And today came the proof of what I could feel on the wind last night: giant flakes of snow falling like an afterthought and then in earnest. Melting into the warmed earth except in the spots where their whiteness takes tentative hold. I know it won't last long. If it were November and this were the first snow, I could admire it.


At 3:09 PM, Anonymous ampiggy said...

Different kinds of heather? I would barely recognize any kind, let alone be able to distinguish one from another. But of course, such an ubiquitous plant would have different varieties. Sigh. Even the word heather sounds comforting.

At 5:46 PM, Blogger landgirl said...

Turns out there are at least 8 heathers--who knew? Some spring blooming; some autumn blooming--pink, white, red flowers and variations.

I always think of that song from Brigadoon--I won't go walking through the heather on the hill now that her lover is no longer there.
No more snow but cold now.


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