The aftermath of a winter day in spring
23 March, after it had snowed on the day before (ouch!).
An almond flower on a Thuja plant. I was impressed with the distance the flower had travelled in the air to land there.
A patch of surviving snow on the grass (the yellowish dust on top of it came from Sahara, we were told):
The story of my favourite daffodil in the garden next to the trolleybus stop:
It got a little muddy, but survived the rain on 21 March:
And then it survived the first round of snow of 22 March:
But it didn’t make it through the next round of snow and then rain and maybe pieces of ice falling from the trees, so this is how I found it on 23 March.
I decided to wait for any hypothetical owner to pick it up (I have no idea who planted them, the Municipality or some private person) and then pick it up myself on my way back from the town centre if it was still there… and then I forgot about it. It was still there on the next day (Saturday), but there were so many people waiting at the stop that I was ashamed to pick it up, in case they couldn’t see that it was already broken off (it was a cold rainy day, so the broken-off flowers were still fresh). And then it was gone on Sunday.
Fortunately, the other two daffodils of the prettiest kind survived (but ouch, one of these was gone too on Sunday):
And now here is the plainer broken-off daffodil that I did rescue from the trolleybus stop garden on Sunday:
I used an empty jar from my nephew’s baby puree as a vase. LOL
I admit that it creeps me out a little that it has eight petals instead of the usual six, although that's a pretty common mutation.
An almond flower on a Thuja plant. I was impressed with the distance the flower had travelled in the air to land there.
A patch of surviving snow on the grass (the yellowish dust on top of it came from Sahara, we were told):
The story of my favourite daffodil in the garden next to the trolleybus stop:
It got a little muddy, but survived the rain on 21 March:
And then it survived the first round of snow of 22 March:
But it didn’t make it through the next round of snow and then rain and maybe pieces of ice falling from the trees, so this is how I found it on 23 March.
I decided to wait for any hypothetical owner to pick it up (I have no idea who planted them, the Municipality or some private person) and then pick it up myself on my way back from the town centre if it was still there… and then I forgot about it. It was still there on the next day (Saturday), but there were so many people waiting at the stop that I was ashamed to pick it up, in case they couldn’t see that it was already broken off (it was a cold rainy day, so the broken-off flowers were still fresh). And then it was gone on Sunday.
Fortunately, the other two daffodils of the prettiest kind survived (but ouch, one of these was gone too on Sunday):
And now here is the plainer broken-off daffodil that I did rescue from the trolleybus stop garden on Sunday:
I used an empty jar from my nephew’s baby puree as a vase. LOL
I admit that it creeps me out a little that it has eight petals instead of the usual six, although that's a pretty common mutation.