Yesterday, I noticed the first blossoms of wisteria on my street. I have always had a soft spot for these mysterious purple cones. I only have a few dangling over my fence in the backyard, and I know they won’t last too long. But they sure are something to look at when they’re in bloom.
The rosebush I planted last spring is growing crazy. I swear it’s three times the size it was when I planted it. I want to plant another one this spring right alongside the first one. Might be my weekend project.
Even my little potted transplants are hanging in there. New blossoms every week.
Just like that old song from Carousel, “June is bustin’ out all overrrrrrrrrrr.” Except it’s March.
