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March 8th  2011    Tim Candler

    This year Sandhill Cranes flew north earlier than they did last year.  I would guess almost a week or ten days earlier.  And too I suspect Forsythia, along with Quince, will have their moment earlier this year than they did last year.

    A glance at the Almanac suggests temperatures have been above average these past four weeks.  Which actually means nothing, because suddenly the graph line could dip far below normal, and  those Asparagus spears peering out of the ground will begin to feel as confused as I often do.

    For myself, I would like to think I am behind because there has been good rain.  Last year I believe I was behind because of the cold.  The year before I was probably hurt, and on it goes.

    But in the tradition of gardening angst, being behind in March is a minor anxiety.  It soon pales into distant memory when grass and weeds start growing, when the panoply of pest emerges, and the smaller rabbit breaches fencing.

    Indeed I am almost of an age where outdoor carpeting, concrete walks and statuary, a coffee shop round the corner appeals.  I'd be the old fart with a cane and memories of glory days, gumming the sticky bun.

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