Here Comes the Sun!

After my crack team of Peruvian horticulturalists finished their work this morning I took a short turn around the flower beds. I wasn't really expecting to see anything, but I do find the zen-like patterns that they rake into the soil both fascinating and confusing. Some weeks the patterns resemble the most complex of the British crop circles. Some weeks they look like ocean waves, or like a second-grader practicing the cursive lower case "l." What's fascinating is that they are able to achieve these results without disturbing a single weed.


During the Great Depression, hieroglyphics were commonly used to communicate between homeless men who hit the road in search of work. For example, a crudely-drawn cat on a gate post meant that the woman who lived there was a soft touch for a meal. I have never served refreshments to my gardeners, so I don't think that they are broadcasting my hospitality to other gardeners. Perhaps one of them is just a frustrated artist, using my sandy soil as his canvas until something better comes along.


While on my tour this morning I spotted something else that brought a smile to my face. . the first daffodil of the season. Daffodils inspire the philosopher in me. I find them to be an allegory for so many things--rebirth, triumph over struggle, and the promise of Spring. But mostly, daffodils break my heart. They are so lovely, but so short-lived. Unlike roses which bloom and bloom, replacing each fallen flower with three more new ones, daffodils have just the one shot at life and then they are gone. Daffodils always make me think.


I love this time of year in Bakersfield. Today the temperature is 75 degrees with just the tiniest hint of a soft breeze. It makes me want to rush out to Home Depot and load up my cart with tomato starts. (Though I know I will regret it when it's 110 degrees and I'm wishing they would all just die.) Seasons are the best thing about life here in the Central Valley. Just about the time you are sick to death of the fog, damp, and bone-chilling cold, when you would sell your firstborn for a glimpse of the sun, we have a day like today and the daffodils arrive for their short visit. Happy Spring, everyone!