Yesterday was the first day of spring. I found this lone flower blooming in a pot of greenery by my kitchen window. Isn’t it lovely? Oh, harbinger of new and reawakening life. Oh, beacon of joy. This is the stuff that stirs poets to pen.
Except that this is my Thanksgiving cactus which ordinarily produces its pink-tinged blossoms and white translucent wings in November, and it did not disappoint four months ago when it was awash with blooms. In all the years that I have had it, it has never flowered in spring. Nor has it ever only presented a single bloom.
This morning there was snow. By the afternoon it was gone. Harbinger of doom? Who knows? I do think we should all hang on to our hats; come summer we may be in for a hot, bumpy ride.
A Wilderness of Words 
Not to worry, I have one that only blooms in spring, so maybe they were communicating psychically. 🙂
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Well, then that explains it. Glad we cleared that mystery up. 😉
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This is a special Spring, Mary. Very special. It sounds like you had you a late bloomer in the mix. 😉
I think it’s a messenger of good things to come. Just a feeling. But here you are writing….and that’s a very good thing.
xoxo, c-
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Yep! I thought the same thing…the blessings and joy brought by a late bloomer.
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It does feeling like I am reawakening –ideas are starting to flow like a spring river after winter’s thaw. We shall see . . .
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Signs of the seasons. And stirs poets to pen indeed 🙂
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And more hours of daylight, Andy. That always stirs me.
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Dear Mary,
You probably have no idea how happy I am when I see the words, “New post on Wilderness of Words” show up in my inbox. It makes a smile form ear to ear.
Your words are elegant, soothing and make a beeline straight to my heart. Harbinger of doom? Nah! Hoping it’s a sign of more Mary to come this spring. xo
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More Cowbell!
Err I mean More Mary!
Both! 🙂
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You can never have enough cowbell!
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Or Mary. 😉
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You are so sweet, Michelle! I’m working on more Mary. It’s not an easy job, believe me! 😉
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Mary,
Well, you are a poet and we all know it. I hope you don’t mind the nickname I have for you, Mary Wild Words? It was a play on the wilderness of words that you shepherd into a symphony, every single time. There’s a magic to that, a good feeling engendered. And God knows the world needs a whole lot more good feeling with all the dumbassery that’s going around.
And there’s no such thing as enough, Mary. Don’t you know that with every thing you pen we want more and more of it?
More Mary!
Please…:)
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