I planted over 300 bulbs this weekend. I spent hours and hours cleaning and making way, then digging little holes, pressing the bulbs into the earth, then covering them up. Nobody would know they were there. It’s meditative, and therefore an act of hope, mystery, and faith. We will get through the winter. How, I don’t know. But share with me the vision of Iris reticulata, the tiny little guys that are the among first to pop up in the early, early spring, right after the snow drops; they are sweetly and subtly fragrant. A big bag of species tulips; cheap, because they aren’t sorted — we’ll see. Tulips and daffodils named after Washington state mountains, Mt. Tacoma and Mt. Hood, respectively.Thinking of my family, who are there. Bright white crocus, Jeanne d’Arc, the warrior witch. Leucojum, aka Summer Snowflakes — so fresh. And of course, bluebells, the color of the sky at daybreak.