By Gloria Wise
Buffalo, NY – I know that Spring is here because my crocuses tell me so.
Although a few weeks have passed since the Vernal Equinox, it doesn't feel like Spring until the little purple buds fight their way through the vestiges of winter that blanket my dinky townhouse garden. The crocuses started pushing through the earth and snow the last week of March, awakened by bright, sunny 50-degree days. But on April 2, a storm -- perhaps a belated April Fools joke -- dumped over half a foot of snow on them. But a couple of days later, I spotted their petals slipping out cautiously from under the receding ice, like a sleepy child peeking out of a thick, goosedown comforter at the first rays of morning light.
We can learn a lot from this flower. One plant on its own is small and unassuming. It stands to barely five inches tall. The bloom is saucer shaped, comes in purple, white, gold and other variations of those hues. One crocus can get lost on a vast hillside. But when many of these early spring flowers are planted in large colonies, they are glorious. I've seen hundreds of them naturalized in the woods, as thick and rich as an oriental rug. Professional gardeners plant them into elaborate designs and shapes in formal gardens. A patch of their exuberant colors against gray-green, winter-wary turf is the floral equivalentof bursts of laughter.
As pretty and delicate as they look, crocuses are little powerhouses. Despite my ineptness at gardening and years of neglect, they come back every year. They herald the beginning of every spring after hibernating through long, harsh winters. Once they bloom, they stand at attention like resolute guards, despite unseasonable cold and snow.
Like crocuses, we flourish and rejoice in large supportive communities. As beautiful as each of us is, we make a greater impact on our surroundings when we work together in harmony. Within ourselves, we have the potential to rise above an inauspicious past. We also carry the strength to weather any adversity.
Crocuses tell me that there are warm days ahead, even though it is April and I'm still wearing long underwear and fleece. They tell me that Spring will awaken soon after her long, deep slumber, and that she has merely pressed the snooze button on her alarm clock.
But they also teach me that if we reach for the strength within ourselves and reach out to each other, there can be bright, warm, and colorful days ahead, no matter what the season.
Listener-Commentator Gloria Wise lives in Amherst.