After my daffodil bloomed on Friday, Saturday turned out to be a seasonably cold day. The sky was clear and sharp, but the cold wasn't biting - just bracing. It felt like winter ought to feel on a perfect February Saturday. I went to meet a friend at the botanical garden, and we headed straight for the conservatory to see the tropical rainforest and African desert. It was so hot inside our glasses fogged up, and we stopped in the entryway to unentangle ourselves from our scarves and mittens.
As we walked through the paths, we noticed which plants looked like the ones in our mothers' gardens, and talked about helping them and watching them when we were small. In one greenhouse, where the vines arched over our heads and flowers dripped down, I asked my friend if she wanted me to take a picture of her. She said "No, that's all right," then "Yes, because my mom always asks why I don't send more pictures of myself."
After the tropical gardens we wrapped our woolens back around ourselves and discovered that both our mothers had taught us how to knit over the Christmas holidays. (My friend's first project was very impressive!)
When we got to the outdoor gardens we discovered plum blossoms and hellebores, snow drops and papery yellow flowers were already blooming. That made me feel like my daffodils were less of a cheat! So spring is coming early everywhere, not just in my kitchen - although my dad says that February will surprise us with a blizzard.
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