For a few years in my 20s, I lived in Washington, DC. I never expected to stay there forever, so I didn’t put down too many roots but I enjoyed the city for what it was. There was plenty to enjoy. Free museums, numerous entry-level jobs, lots of people of a similar age in search of the best happy hour deals, and, best of all, a real spring.
Maine doesn’t typically have a spring, where “spring” equals an actual span of time lasting for more than two days, so I was pretty blown away by March in a more southerly place. DC has glorious springs. Days upon weeks upon months of gradually unfolding green, flowers, and, of course, cherry blossoms. Oh, cherry blossoms. I loved the cherry blossoms. I would leave my office at 5, take the Metro down to the Mall, and walk all the way around the Tidal Basin, breathing it all in before heading home. If it was a particularly nice cherry blossom season, I would perform this little ritual daily. March in DC was really a season of miracles.
There are no cherry blossoms in Maine. There is no real spring in Maine. There’s winter, and there’s mud, and then it’s summer. After a few years of March desperation–that vague sense of doom and dread and conviction that the whole world will be brown forever–I began to see the value in adding a little color to this time of year.
So I planted some crocuses. Which I do not in any way mean to suggest are equivalent to cherry blossoms, but as crocuses are really the only thing that grows in Maine in March, it’s the best I can do.
Anyway, it’s all working out splendidly.
Check out my crocus bed:
Isn’t that springy?
Just for comparison purposes, here’s a shot of the cherry blossoms:
Photo borrowed from Radio Rover on Flickr.
Downright uncanny how I have recreated that atmosphere, isn’t it?
Here’s another angle of my handiwork:
I like how the splash of color offered by the kayak and the “don’t hit this, plow guy” stick really make everything pop.
In short: there is no spring. Spring is a lie. I will never see flowers again.
Also, if you are a friend of mine still living in DC? Please go smell the cherry blossoms for me.
My neighbor is leaving to visit her brother in Fairfax, VA on Thursday night; she’s really looking forward to seeing the cherry blossoms in DC. We have a wonderful park in the Bloomfield, NJ area which is full of cherry trees, they are usually in full bloom for my mother’s birthday on April 16th.
Where I live, spring means floods. And driving 20 miles out of my way to get to a place that is usually 4 miles away.
Oh, floods! Well, that sounds exciting. Sometimes we have those here, but not WE we because we live on a hill. But *waves hand vaguely* other people here.
yay! I remember visiting you in DC when you lived there. I still go to an annual meeting in that area each fall. Love the blog. Thanks so much for posting!
I walk by the Federal Reserve Bank of Boston each day on my way to the T and see the crocuses pushing up through the ground… they probably have a rude awakening on Friday, it seems… but in the meantime, it makes me smile each morning.
Man, I was really counting on the crocuses because the are such happy little flowers. Daffodils I don’t like as much; give me the humble crocus any day.
Oh yes, the resemblances are uncanny. You really captured the feeling there.
It will forever be to my shame that I never took a trip down to DC to see the cherry trees when I lived in New York. We talked about it every year…
I know that it’s hard to motivate out of New York, but, yeah, the cherry blossoms would have been worth the train ride. On a warm, sunny day, they really are extraordinary.
We had 6 days with no snow on the ground. Half my crocuses bloomed, got eaten by the friendly neighborhood rabbit and promptly got buried under 5 inches of snow and I haven’t seem them since. I don’t know if the ones that hadn’t bloomed have gone into stasis or if they are blooming under the snow. Sigh.
I guess posting this made Michael feel bad, because this afternoon he shoveled off the crocus bed to expose the sad little yellow shoots. And, yes, we are expecting snow on Friday.
S’alright. They are hardy little suckers.
Maine sounds like where I live. We don’t get anything for spring either. I’ve been crabby about all the blogs I’ve seen lately – look what’s in my garden! Yay spring! – because everything is covered with snow and ice. Your crocus garden made me smile.
I think the curse of DC is that now I know there are places that get a real, honest-to-goodness spring. All those poems make so much more sense now! And so does my bitterness!
And here I was, just today thinking about how much I love spring in Maine – when it starts warming up, the skiing gets really fun and we drink PBR on the deck with friends in the balmy 40 degree weather! I’m sure that time is coming any day now (right after the 14 inches we are expecting in the mountains, right?)
I lived in DC in my 20s too, and am going on 12 years in New England. I miss the sping. I miss wearing shorts in October. I kind of miss my 20s, actually.
We were in Maine last weekend and we have more snow in our yard in MA than Maine…blechity blech.
Yay for crocuses though!
We skipped crocuses and went straight to daffodils and cherry blossoms here in GA. But that was clear back in mid-Feb. Early March saw 80 degrees and roses blooming. (WTF? Weird to a former Alaskan!)
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[…] fall, I decided to move the crocus and narcissus bulbs from their former bed. Due to some poor planning, I had planted them directly under the spot where our plow guy dumps […]