Spring, Easter, and me

I'm not quite sure what's thrown everything off-kilter, but my best guess is the movable feast that is Easter. Determining its date takes an astronomy degree and a great deal of patience. Or a handy-dandy chart.

Easter can fall anywhere from March 22 to April 25. A late Easter is almost as dreaded as an early one. In that instance, it's as if Easter will never come. April, therefore, feels free to frost, ice, and snow, preferably Easter week. And this is in North Texas. Heaven knows the latitude she takes elsewhere.

Easter this year was yesterday, March 23, almost as early as it can be. Of course, we had snow 2 weeks ago and a torrential downpour last week. So what's a stiff north breeze during sunrise services? Bundle up, March said. It's still March!

But our collective minds are on spring and warmth and flowers. After all, Easter has come and gone. But nurseries have stuck to their time-honored ways and beautiful, already blooming plants are in short supply, if available at all. My inner gardener is frustrated, even if I know in my never-green thumb that April can have a trick or two up her sleeve and make all my hard work frizzle away.

So I've gathered my patience and poked around the flower beds and cleaned them out a bit. I've taken delight in the daffodils and tulips. I've scratched down deep enough to see the Mexican petunias are returning and the dwarf crape myrtles are greening. I can wait to buy and plant. I just know I can.

After all, next year Easter is April 12. Not too early, not too late. Just right.