I will post updates on the wild and cultivated things around my house this spring and summer in the spirit of the “Flowering City” concept of our community. These are my notes from yesterday when the morning air was cooler than today.—PM

The air still has a chill in it at morning time here in the river valley. I want warmth. I want the ground to heat up. I turned over the soil in my garden today. The hoe went into the ground easily except for the tangle of spidery roots in some places. I have three yellow-gold daffodils in bloom, three flowers, that is, from about five plants that pushed their way into the light. The raspberry pink azalea bushes flanking the granite front steps out front are ready to pop, a couple of buds already unfolding. Along the foundation of the house on the east side, red-tinged horn-tips of hostas poke out of the dirt. Deep green iris blades are several inches high. Frothy yellow forsythia is about to burst near the driveway. Some of these blossoms are later than in neighbors’ yards because the sun doesn’t get at them until mid-afternoon due to the angle of the house lot and dense row of trees on the western property line. Maple tree buds are so ready to unroll their tiny leaflets wrapped as tightly as cigars that you can make yourself believe you could see it happen if you watched long and closely enough.