1. On first glance, the landscape was pallid and bleak. Maybe, I thought, this would be the year that the plants, tired of being taken for granted, decided not to come back. It would be hard to blame them. But then I looked down and saw a clump of snow drops, and then another, forming a stream of green and white.
2. And then I saw a haphazard mound of spring crocus. Things were maybe not as bleak as I had thought.
3. I arrived in time to see the last of the glaciers melting into the earth.
4. I always feel grateful to see the heather in bloom. It’s something I think about to calm down when I’m stuck in a tunnel on the A train with a screaming preacher. Soon, I will be far away from this noise and much closer to the heather, who never preaches, and especially not to a captive audience.
5. I might even say that heather is my favorite plant, but I can’t forget the hellebore. Any plant that flowers with snow on the ground — and manages to do it with such unassuming elegance — deserves high praise. Imagine having to wake up and spend most of your life in the bitter cold. I’m not sure I could it.
6. It’s nice to live in a culture like the United States circa 2018 that emphasizes the quiet strength and beauty of these late-winter flowers.
7. I sometimes can’t imagine how we’re going to get from where we are now to another, better (or not-worse) place.
8. But the snow drops remind me that there are hidden rivers, just waiting to be taken, if we know where to look.
