Pay attention to what fades into the background

Coming home today from the farm, I looked out the window as High Park slid by my window. The trees looked like they were draped with diamonds with all of the rain drops refracting this afternoon's light. As I walked up my street and to my apartment, I stopped to look at the drops that had gathered on the crocuses. 

If you haven't noticed, in the last few posts in the blog, I have been presenting a series of flower stories. It's part of a larger piece of writing I'm mulling over and trying out. I enjoy researching the history, use, and meanings behind flowers. Today, drawn in by the ultraviolet crocuses, I knew I found my muse. However, today I thought I might take a different tack. Today I want to share my flower story, relating to the crocus.

I may have mentioned this on the blog before, but when I was growing up, I literally believed sometimes that spring might never come, that winter would have won in the fight of seasons.

My Mom planted gardens all around my home growing up. Many of my memories are of her, outside, with a giant floppy hat and an old Syracuse University rugby shirt she stole from my Dad (you may or may not find me sporting the same outfit around Downsview Park these days-photo flashback to 2013!). My Mom was forever at war with the deer, especially when it came to the tulips. One perfect bud would form, start to crack and color and then--SNIP! Here today, gone tomorrow. But daffodils and crocuses seem immune to the critters.

Every spring they never fail to arrive and to me, they are my harbinger of spring, my little bit of hope at the end of the long winter.

April is a special month to me. April 22nd, Earth Day, is truly a sacred and special holiday to me. I know its made up and people should think about the environment everyday, but I like having a special day to celebrate. April 23rd is my favorite day of the year because its my Mom's birthday. These are linked in my mind--celebrating and remembering the Earth, everyone's mother and my own. The first all around me and the second taken far too early from me. Its bittersweet, but that's spring. As we rejoice over all the new flowers, birds, and all things new, we can't help but remember those we lost in the long winter.

Crocuses are a simple, nothing special flower. They are not the focal flower in the arrangement. They are the backdrop in a wallpaper. But to me, they are much bigger than they appear.