I’ve run early-spring pictures of these little purple guys almost every year since this blog’s birth in early 2003. Except for last year. Because we moved and the new place didn’t have any. Only now it does, and they’re (just barely) up.

Long-time followers may note that they’re pale and fragile compared to the exuberant blossoms of previous years. Not sure why, but our new place faces north and there’s this enormous White Ash tree right in front of it, so they’re not getting as much sun as at the south-facing former joint.

And also this is their first spring. We bought the bulbs and hired a professional with the right tools to jam them into the earth last autumn, between the big tree’s roots. So they really haven’t had a chance to get their own root systems going.

And finally, it really is the first day that’s bright and warm enough to get out the camera. Maybe they’ll be better in another few days. And quite likely next Spring.

This would be the place to introduce whatever metaphor this year’s blossoms, fighting their way through the leaf cover in chilly air toward the sun, fit into, but I’m not gonna.

I, like many, am not dealing very well with what I see when I look at the world in either the big or the ultra-local landscapes. The world in tough shape and its worst people are making it worse. People I love are in ugly corners and not finding help.

But you know, the flowers, in their low-key way, look great and so does the tree, still in wintersleep. Today the sun was shining on them. It’ll be warmer and nicer soon.

Metaphors can go to hell. It’s just late-winter light on pale violet petals. Enjoy the moments you have with it.