The end of winter is a nebulous time for gardeners--it is not quite one thing and not quite another. There are clear days when you can skate on the pond and others when you can walk about without a coat. Looking around for branches to bring home, I see the beech trees still hanging on to their frail, colorless leaves and notice that the drooping, short-lived flowers of the maple are about to open. While others are just dreaming of their gardens, mine is blossoming in the house.
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