THE MEMORY OF FLOWERS – Marilyn Armstrong


It was raining all last night and today, but without the hurricane-force winds. Every single bone in my body hurts. When I stand up and move it’s like a tympanic symphony in there. Crunching and snapping, crackling, and popping.

One Daffodil
Spring along the river

A flowery road by the farm

Surprisingly, we DO have flowers. In the middle of the woods, there is a little grove of Magnolia trees that are blooming. If it would stop raining for a few hours, I could get some pictures. Even without the pictures (not only was it raining, but it was cold!), I was glad to see something other than Forsythia and Crocus.

Columbine, more
Columbine and old wood texxture


Because none of the Columbine are blooming. Not even Solomon’s Seal is in bloom. And don’t even think about the Lilacs. Actually, I take that back. It probably is blooming, but it’s so far up in the tree, I need my very long lane to even see the flowers — IF I can see them.

Solomon’s Seal

Outside, it’s just dark and rainy, windy, muddy, and cold — with snow further north.



This is the worst part of winter for me because by now, I’ve had more than enough winter. Even thinking about snow makes my back hurt and my sinuses back up. Spring tends to be very brief and rather late in this latitude. Beautiful for all of five minutes.

Pink apple blossoms
A flowery road by the farm
New leaves

I thought I’d give you some springtime visuals. Something for all we northerners to dream about.