The Time Of Crocuses.

This past week marked the true beginning of the reign of Spring in southern Scandinavia. With temperatures in the late 50's, nature visibly turns green and the first flowers are at last in bloom.

Today was a sunny but chilly day, in contrast to a warm and very rainy night. As I did the first gardening of the season, I marveled over the progress that is so visible in my small garden. All the bulbs I planted in October are sprouting. Some are just barely pushing through the dirt, such as tulips, while hyacinths and daffodils display fresh and green stalks.

The only flowers in bloom are crocuses.
I simply love this first real flower of the spring. So resilient, yet so fragile, it appears so enchanted, as it pushes through the remains of the last snow already in early February. Clearly able to withstand frost and growing through ice, it is a miracle of nature in my eyes. At all times a sign of life, it is a consolation when spring is still very elusive and sun barely present. And then, when the sun returns with the vernal equinox, it displays beautiful crowns that turn toward the first sunshine, bursting with yellow, blue, purple or white, so symbolic of renewal and joy of new beginnings.

Today, when I uncovered the last sprouting bulbs, by removing old autumns leaves and protective bark - I found a butterfly.
It looked tired and fragile, fluttering its wings, drinking the warmth of the spring sun. I could easily pick it up and relished close up in its beauty. A rare moment in time, so unreal in the height of summer when this gentle being will never stand still long enough to admire. Within minutes, as the butterfly absorbed enough heat from my hand, it lifted its wings and gained altitude, drifting away from my view on a gentle spring breeze...

And so it begins, the best time of the year is here.