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My first crocus of the season.


Hallowell

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Crocuses always signal spring for me, always have. There is a picture of me when I was about one holding up the little yellow flower! I guess I started paying attention to them early in life...

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No snow here and the flowers are always in bloom..:lol: Sorry guys. You can torture me back in July when the heat starts killing me over here.

I love this post though. The thought of that little flower blooming for the first time and all alone is inspiring. Hmmm, a yellow dollhouse, maybe made into a flower shop.....:p

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I adore crocus! It never snows here, so I don't have the joy of watching them pop out of a little white blanket.

One year it did get really icy and my snowdrops got all covered in ice. I cut a few and took them inside to show everyone. When the ice melted they popped back up all cheery and happy!

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I love crocus! One year, my 3 yr old son and I planted dozens and dozens of crocus and grape hyacinth in our front yard. They were sooo pretty in the spring!

I have tiger lilies coming up, which are very special to me. My son bought me a pot of them years ago. I kept the in the pot, divided them with my son when they needed thinned out, and still have them. They are a brilliant orange with black spots on them. I can't wait for them to bloom, about Easter usually.

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What a nice surprise to find a little crocus sticking her bold little head above the cold ground. Still too much snow on the ground here.

When Dudley was alive he and I used to patrol the garden in back of our house every day in the Spring, brushing aside the ground coverings looking for the first spring bulbs and ladybugs. Dudley and I loved finding ladybugs. He'd walk around beside me and use his paws to brush aside foliage and dried leaves looking for the ladybugs and flowers because he knew how excited I'd get. I'd hug him and tell him what a good boy he was when he'd uncover a treasure.

-Susanne

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I have puddy willow blooms (I got bleeped for spelling it right). The forsythia is just starting and the crocus should be blooming this weekend!! Yay spring!!

:D

It happened to me once as well. I was shocked as I don't use language where you get bleeped. I'm always very appropriate in my speech. :doh: I also had to think up another word that was acceptable.

-Susanne

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According to an old Polish legend, many springtimes ago a mother cat was crying at the bank of the river in which her kittens were drowning. The willows at the river's edge longed to help her, so they swept their long graceful branches into the waters to rescue the tiny kittens who had fallen into the river while chasing butterflies. The kittens gripped on tightly to their branches and were safely brought to shore. Each springtime since, goes the legend, the willow branches sprout tiny fur-like buds at their tips where the tiny kittens once clung.

Another version goes: A farmer, annoyed that his barn cat had just given birth to another litter of kittens, decided that his farm had enough mouths to feed. He put the newborn babies in a feed sack, went down to the riverbank and threw the kittens in the water to be rid of them. In the turbulence of the fast moving river, the tie on the sack became loosened which set the kittens adrift. On the riverbank witnessing this horrible sight, the distressed mother cat wept loud and pitifully.

A cluster of willow bushes, along the riverbank downstream, heard her cries and in sympathy held out their branches like mooring lines. This enabled the desperately floundering kittens to grab hold as they drifted by. Now in mythology, when the life we are assigned on earth is doomed but because the spirit is eternal, myth dictates that the spirit can live on but must be in another earthly form. Because the kittens were destined to die, but their spirits were saved, they then became part of the willows which had saved them. Ever since then, in Spring, the willow-without-a-flower decks itself out in gentle velvet buds that feel to the fingers like the silky coat of a small cat. These buds are known today as catkins and remarkably, in every country, these soft willow trees are named after cats.

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