I kneel down,
balance my weight,
elbows and knees dig into the soggy winter loam.
I am enable to see
White winter bees,
in flower form,
soaring toward the pale warming sunlight.
The snowdrops dance before me in a row.
Twirling their skirts,
revealing their green scalloped petticoats.
A threesome circle dance goes on
by all but God and me.
Too shy to be found on stage,
they hide behind stone walls
and peek up beneath shady arbors.
Some have brought their own spotlighting hood.
the light filters upon them softly.
Spotlights which magnifies the sunlight,
just a touch,
adds highlights to their simple garb.
The stage around them
a background scenery
painted in spring colors.
to get on stage
A floral chorus line of innocence.
A settling pose...
A head gently tilted.
The breeze will come,
come to this star
and the winter snowdrop
dance will begin once again.
How careful are the pleated lines of their underskirts!
A bar and an angle...
Green and white...
White and green.
They have found their creative color.
The emerald green;
they proudly wear
the color of the center
of every rainbow.
A fish marks the underskirt of some snowdrops.
While others bear a circle and connected footed marks.
Two side touching fingerprints and the symbol of running water:
Is each design a particular snowdrop kind?
Or is it a signature,
handwritten by God
onto the cup of each snowdrop?
The snowdrops bob happily
knowing their beauty marks
One young garden fairy sketches
while this older garden sprite
snaps photos quickly,
hoping to capture the snowdrop's graceful drift.
A single curl adorns this one's green cap.
She stands alone among her straight stemmed sisters.
Does she know her curl is special?
Blankets of frost scorched grasses
yield to the exploring snowdrop
the flowers will stay buried no longer!
The baby sisters peek up
eager to leave their cradle soil bed.
The wait to add their own dance and chorus
will surely not be long!
Sunday I headed over to Red Butte Garden to see how midwinter was looking there.
Yes, we really are more than half way to spring.
Most of the garden was still aping autumn with myriad shades of brown.
Missing winter snow
Blooming spring like flowers poking up from warming soil.
I walked about jacket-less and my back and face were warmed in the sunshine.
It really was seasonally confusing!
The Garden had a new feature:
Poetry had been installed in glass fronted cases randomly placed throughout the garden.
What an unexpected treat it was to find written poetry in the garden.
Oh I shall have to memorize this one...
I shall spout it out whenever I need to scrape frost from my car windows!
(Sometimes it is worth it to leave a car out over night just so one can see the work of Jack Frost!)
The buds are fluffy and still quite tight.
On this garden visit the air was perfectly.
The photographer in me appreciates that greatly.
The only color in the garden were lingering red berried or pods.
How the snow driven birds have missed these I can not say.
We have had a very mild winter.
I fear our roses may bloom resurrected early and be covered late by a white shroud.
The pond remains just barely frozen.
A couple sat together enjoying the sun's warmth on a quiet afternoon date.
The ice is retreating.
The waterfalls fall freely.
Little boys balance fearlessly on the stepping stones bordered by icy water.
A dad with his two children; he shares a quiet talk with his daughter while his red shirted "just like daddy" son plays nearby.
The older couple prepare to leave...
I have this scene in winter snow white, autumn glory, and spring pink blossoms.
I confess...I like the scene better with distinct seasonal clues.
Something for those who love to cook.
Did you know...
How many common plants are part of the rose family?
And that you can make a "Rose Family Salad" with common fruits?
Each of the ingredients are part of the rose family!
(Now wouldn't that make for a fun dinner time conversation starter/Science lesson?)
I had headed to the garden hoping to also see Lenten Roses in bloom.
Here they are barely peeking out from the soil.
(And I do mean barely...I wouldn't have noticed them if I had not been looking for them.)
Near where they grow I spotted this sign.
Snow Fairy Bluebeard.
Now seriously, don't you want to have a plant with a name like that in your garden?
Or draw a picture of what a Snow Fairy Bluebeard fairy might look like?
Must memorize this poem as well for January next year.
I spent a lot of time trying to photograph the Nervous Nellies aka Chickadees.
A telephoto lens would have been the right one to use but I hadn't brought that extra lens along.
Well, close enough...
Final seasons close...
I was on my belly photographing the snowdrops at the far end of this winding path when my best friend called.
It took a bit to get upright and dig out my phone to take the call.
A few others in the garden heard my loud shouts of joy at the good news she was calling to share.
She too will be having a grandchild soon!
It is probably a good thing that early sunsets and dropping temperatures limit winter time garden photo outings.
Low light is best for photography.
Even architecture seen from the garden takes on lovely hues in waning daylight.
A final treat as I descended from the garden through the entrance building:Winter jasmine was blooming in pots along the inside stairwell.
The fragrance was lofted up by the inside heat; each step down brought another scent of heaven!