Crocus Jeanne D’Arc
The sun is shining, late afternoon, and just catches the terracotta pots lined up on the window sills as I get back from the supermarket. The crocus and hyacinths are illuminated. A magical little moment. I notice the Rosa rugosa is sprouting little pleated leaves and the Pieris is flowering extravagantly, as too, the hellebore.
There are a few orphan narcissi flowering up against the low red brick wall – from pots emptied in previous years, an odd bulb rolling out of sight. Proof, if it were needed, that small displays (planned or accidental) of great plants can be show-stopping. Just make time to stop and look.
WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—
No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.