The Crocus were first!

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The Crocuses

They heard the South wind sighing

    A murmur of the rain;

And they knew that Earth was longing

    To see them all again.

 

While the snow-drops still were sleeping

    Beneath the silent sod;

They felt their new life pulsing

    Within the dark, cold clod.

 

Not a daffodil nor daisy

    Had dared to raise its head;

Not a fairhaired dandelion

    Peeped timid from its bed;

 

Though a tremor of the winter

    Did shivering through them run;

Yet they lifted up their foreheads

    To greet the vernal sun.

 

And the sunbeams gave them welcome,

    As did the morning air—

And scattered o’er their simple robes

    Rich tints of beauty rare.

 

Soon a host of lovely flowers

    From vales and woodland burst;

But in all that fair procession

    The crocuses were first.

 

First to weave for Earth a chaplet

    To crown her dear old head;

And to beauty the pathway

    Where winter still did tread.

 

And their loved and white haired mother

    Smiled sweetly ’neath the touch,

When she knew her faithful children

    Were loving her so much.

Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, 1825 –1911

Hart in Nehmen sind sie diese allerersten Krokusse, noch weit vor den ersten Schneeglöckchen. Nur die Zaubernuss ist auch schon wach und die ersten Spitzen der Zwergiris schauen schon mal vorsichtig heraus. 

 

Es regnet arg viel in diesem Winter und tut es immer noch. Kein Wunder, dass die Pegel unserer vielen Flüsse schon wieder hoch stehen. Das hier ist die Fuhse, die sich weit über die umliegenden Felder ausgedehnt hat. 

Skywatch Friday - Image-in-Ing - 

My Corner of the World - 

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