By March, my eyes and my heart hunger for just a bit of green to feast upon.
Outside, the white and blue of midwinter have faded to grey and brown--leaden skies heavy with freezing rain, filthy snowbanks along the roadsides, driveways of frozen mud ruts. Even the so-called evergreen trees--pine, hemlock, cedar, fir--appear no longer green, but dark and rusty, no longer full of the promise of life that they were when they decked the halls at solstice.
To find hues of that life-giving color, I turn inward. The sunroom, cold and neglected through January and February now fairly glows with new growth.
New leaves for the rubber tree.
Fresh cilantro,
parsley, mint, sage and chives.
This mystery succulent that sprang from nowhere in the soil of our (now-dead) ficus has chosen now to put forth pink blooms.
Our shamrock, Lucky, whom we bought many long years ago in a tiny, mossy greenhouse in Denver, and who has traveled across the country with us twice, is blooming just in time for St. Patrick's Day.
St. Patrick's Day I look on as another celebration of the coming spring (for by next week it will be spring on neither the calendar nor in the weather) and an opportunity to learn a little about another culture, rather than a celebration of the Saint who, legend has it, drove the "snakes" (druids) from Ireland.
The nature windowsill, we redecorated with rainbows and various gnomes, dwarves and Santa's standing in for Leprechauns, and M's Leprechaun shoe.
The two green mushrooms I made for St. Patrick's Day a couple of years ago, though there is nothing remotely mushroomy about March.
I went to an antique store with a vision of a row of green vases along the "mantle." Instead I found this fabulous green Akro Agate tea set. It's missing the creamer and the lid to the teapot. Perhaps I'll make it my mission to find replacements (at first I felt a little embarrassed to be a grown woman going gaga over a toy tea set, but then I googled it, and see that there are zillions of collector sites out there).
Finally, we planted a bit of hope, in the form of a few scatterings of hard red spring wheat berries in a tiny pot. That way we'll be sure of at least a little green by the time spring is actually here.
Your mystery succulent is a kolancho!
ReplyDeleteSo lovely, especially that adorable tea set. I look around my house and there is no indication of what month we are in. I enjoy reading what you are doing to celebrate the various holidays. And how you DO all this I'll never understand!!
ReplyDeleteAll that green is a much needed shot in the arm. I need to feel that vital, healthy color again (more sickness here) and you've inspired me to go on my own green treasure hunt! :)
ReplyDeleteAndrea, your description of midwinter is perfect, so beautifully put. And I love love love how you've brought so much color into your house. Like Mary, I'm amazed by you!
ReplyDeleteI like the way you seem to be assigning a color to each month and celebrate the holidays with nature. When I lived in the desert, I yearned for the subtle greening of the hills that indicated spring was here. Now that I live where it's green year-round, I miss those burnished browns. (Sigh.)
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