I like the word ‘harbinger.” It doesn’t sound anything like what it means, which takes some courage on its part, and dissuades people from using it. But it’s really a happy word, hopeful, optimistic when used with “spring.” Not so much when used with “death” or “doom.”

So we won’t.

Anyway, this week has brought the harbingers of spring out in force. We had some big rains, and some warm weather, and nature’s harbingers are all over the place, in addition to the man-made ones (or in my case, the Cindy-made ones).

First off is the Bradford pear in my backyard. This huge, beautiful tree is known for its ability to split over and over, sending its huge, beautiful branches crashing down on fences, cars, and Mr. Whitebread’s tool shed. But for one glorious month in the spring, this weakling of a tree sprouts a crown of snow-white flowers that make its other shenanigans worth it.

Last year, I (with the horticultural knowledge and back-breaking labor of my SIL Beau) reimagined my backyard into the English garden I’ve always wanted. Or at least half of it, the other half waiting patiently for me to get started this year. Every morning, I would open my curtains to the shocking beauty of my yard, starting my day with unbridled joy at the workings of Mother Nature, God, and Beau.

You can imagine how sad I’ve been over the winter when everything went fallow, all dead branches and wilty bushes. But the other day I opened the curtains to a dazzling array of roses in bloom (see the picture above). Overnight! The lamb’s ears have perked up, the nandinas are standing tall, and the smoke trees are beginning to stretch and grow. It’s given me the nudge I need to begin the work for this year (or call Beau.)

My indoor garden is thriving, too. I have never had a green thumb, but I’m managing to keep a tidy array of succulents and hardy indoor plants alive for multiple seasons. These are plants that have been gifted to me, some as long ago as 2017, and I’m feeling pretty proud of myself.

The Cindy-made harbinger of spring is the decorating for Easter that occurred two weeks ago. About a tenth of my Christmas extravaganza, the explosion of Easter decor brings color and fun to my house and serves as the backdrop for the big Easter luncheon and egg-hunting that will occur in a few weeks. Some of this stuff is as old as my kids (which is old, let me tell you), but I wouldn’t part with it for anything.

There is a certain continuity in the seasons when the blooming of the Bradford pear coincides with the appearance of the bunnies in my house and my garden.

It’s worth celebrating.