Blue squill reappears in our front yard and over the hill behind our house, in the thickets of wild raspberry canes — tiny flowers that sprinkle color in our landscape that is otherwise brown dirt and gray mountain.
In the rough patches of roadsides and rocky ditches, coltsfoot springs up. Along the brick school gymnasium, I discover blooming dandelions.
These tiny flowers, some no larger than my thumbnail, are mighty tough. There’s a lesson here, I know, as I crouch in that tangle of thorny vines, admiring a clump of starflowers. That lesson might be as simple as the determination of the world’s beauty. Who planted these flowers, I don’t know. But every spring I’m grateful for that gardener who lived here and who so loved these spring gems.
The first of a year’s abundance of dandelions
in this single kernel of bright yellow
dropped on our path by the sun, sensing
that we might need some marker to help us
find our way through life…
— Ted Kooser, “Dandelion”
Stony Soil Vermont 
Yes! It’s so nice to know that these small beauties are a constant each year! So many generations have admired them!
Spring is definitely my most favorite season — at least these days. 🙂
Ha! As I was taking the clothes down last night, I spied our first ever clump of squill, probably germinated from seed dropped by a bird? It made me think of you, and how every year you write about the squill, and thinking how it’s something I can count on, just like the peepers. And here it is;). I’m sending the Kooser to my youngest daughter, it will be a good poem for her right now. Thanks for your writing!
You’re so lucky to have squill, too! Thanks for dropping that line!
These look lovely!
These are such beautiful little blue flowers. I didn’t know what they were when I bought the house, but I am mighty grateful that the gardener who planted them knew. You should plant some, too!
Spring is such a glorious gift.
That hopefully will keep on giving….