Another Sign of Spring

Photo from my Instagram

 

I have vague memories from when I was a little kid, of a particular Easter morning. It was after one of the few times we had gone to church and I was walking down the narrow brick path that ran along the south side of our house. 

The crocuses were just starting to bloom and I remember thinking how pretty they looked and how, before they fully opened, it looked as if we were growing a garden of Easter eggs.

I somehow feel connected to that very brief moment every spring when the crocuses reappear.