Mid-April, and a six-weeks-late spring is exploding in our muddy valley.
The leaves are popping, the rhubarb unfurling and the tulips lancing out of the ground to surprise the daffodils and muscari instead of arriving late to the party as usual.
I imagine their urgent murmuring; hurry up!get out of our way!you are supposed to be done now!we’re late!get a move on!
I feel the urgency too, like I need to rush around appreciating it all, because this year it will all be over in a flash.