The forsythia, reluctantly, pushes out its bright yellow petals, marking what many consider the start of Spring.
Some say, not so fast, not til two or three more frosts have past. Maybe that's just an old wives' tale or some farmers' opinion, depending upon their experience and how their luck with the weather's been. Regardless, it's not long before the bountiful white blossoms of the serviceberry and crabapple, flowering dogwood and stinky Bradford pear trees, explode along the road sides and side yards and river banks, brightening those dreay gray season changing days in the Midwest.
Surely someone's counting this morning's as one of those frosts just past the earliest clusters of flowers on the forsythia, the light dusting of snow on the rooftops and backyard patios, but other than the randon readers of The Farmer's Almanac or a few old country wives, who's counting?
I so love all of theses signs of spring! The magnolias had a good go of it until last night...sigh
I always looked forward to the redbud trees flowering.