It always seems to arrive here so late, but it does return eventually. At first it is just a tinge of colour in the dead grass, but in just a few weeks, you can make out the leaves and stems of new growth. Before long there are actual sightings of plant life, the cheerful ta-da! of a wild strawberry plant opening and the teasing remembrances of tartness on your tongue.
Then comes the explosions of the pussywillows. They go off one tree at a time, their velvety sheen erupting for the protrusion of science fiction-y rubber flower things.
We–or at least, those of us who aren’t incubating a human–have started on the garden, planting potatoes in the dirt…
And tomatoes in wee makeshift greenhouses. Next to be planted will be lettuce and peas and the other things that don’t mind a bit of a cold snap here and there, because no matter how poetically you frame this season, it is still northern Alberta.
Hello, slowly advancing green and the promise of summer. We’ve been waiting for you.
It’s just too lovely isn’t it? We’re at the tiny-leaf-and-a-million-shades-of-green stage here and it’s overwhelming. All too soon lost in the dry bake of summer. When do you hatch?