From my upstairs office I can smell the garlic roasting for the lamb stew I’m making for our Ostara dinner. Soon the scent of garlic will be joined by the aroma of soda bread baking. The kitchen sink is full of color where the carrots, leeks, baby potatoes, and snap peas are drying in a colander waiting to be chopped and go into the pot.
It’s one of those early spring days where you look outside and it’s so bright and sunny and all you want is to throw all the windows wide open. It’s actually quite cold and blustery outside, though, and no windows will be opened today. No windows will be opened for a while, actually, because the weather man is already predicting another storm possibly for early next week.
That’s alright, though, because when I went for my daily walk around the yard, I found these:
I know other people’s crocuses around here have long come and gone. I don’t know why mine waited so long. They’re a tiny miracle that somehow managed to survive the Great Groundhog Bunny Bulb Massacre of 2013. The fact that they chose to bloom and show themselves to me on Ostara isn’t an accident. They chose today to welcome spring along with me.
Blessed Ostara to you all.
(Or happy spring. Either way.)