New York, NY, USA

From April Flowers

As the calendar flipped to April, even I started to hate the New York winter a little. Sure, the snow was still pretty when it occasionally fell, but six months of potatoes and cheese and days too frigidly cold for exercise were leaving their mark. I could feel the inertia, the lethargia, the first tentacles of depression creeping in. I joined a Y, but that was a temporary stop-gap at best. What I really needed were crocuses, followed by snowdrops, daffodils, tulips and forsythia. Some cherry blossoms would be nice.

My first attempt to find crocus was actually on a Sunday afternoon at the end of March. “I’ve got to get out of here,” I told Alice, “and find some crocuses!” She wished me luck with doubt in her voice, but I didn’t care. I needed some color. Camera in hand, I headed to the Jackie O reservoir in Central Park, but I saw more fauna than flora.

It was about a week later when I decided the wan sunlight was just about warm enough for lunch in Central Park, and my body was in need of a walk with my meal. That was when I found the first full-blooming crocus.

As the month progressed, the flowers got brighter and more and better.



Until the magnolias bloomed and allergies set in for me in earnest.

From April Flowers