Forsythia
by Kathryn Weidener
Sunshine melted the ice on the bees’ front porch this morning and my beekeeper emailed to ask if I’d seen any activity around the hive since the weather had warmed up. Warmed up? I’ll admit this is a whole lot nicer than it has been, but any bee that ventures forth today will not find anything worth visiting. Little chickadees and sparrows were hopping around in some of the larger clusters of forsythia earlier today. As one landed on a stem, little puffs of snow would fall below and another bird would fly out setting off small avalanches revealing their still brown stems.
Jane clipped forsythia on New Year’s Day to force it to bloom in her dining room for the annual seed ordering party in mid January. Surrounded by glossy seed catalogues eight friends spent a gray Sunday afternoon planning their flowers and produce for the next growing season. Pages turned and decisions made to purchase: beets, broccoli, kohlrabi, lettuce, peas, radish, tomatillos. Why not venture into new crops? Everything looks so hopeful and green. From the windowsill the wanton yellow arms of forsythia called us to believe in spring.
The week before Valentine’s Day I clipped my own forsythia and on Valentine’s Day my husband brought home a lovely bouquet of mixed cut flowers. I deftly split it in two and added color to our bathroom and the kitchen island. The new flowers put the forsythia to shame. It took nearly two weeks before I saw specks of yellow on the brown stems. But they bloomed for my birthday. I posted it on Facebook.
The seeds were delivered to Jane’s house the first week of February. At home snow fell from the sky and ice filled the streets. It took a week before we could gather for seed sorting. We had all saved junk mail envelopes to take our share of the loot. Ever tried to actually separate 300 seeds into 40/40/20% piles? The least experienced gardener got the envelope with the planting directions.
As I got off the plane at LAX I could smell the warmth. Even through the car exhaust the scent of jasmine was in the air. Year round something is always in bloom. My granddaughter, Allison enjoyed discovering different flowers on our walks to and from the park. The next time I will be there at the end of April she will have a new brother. In New Jersey, the forsythia will be in full bloom.
About The Author
Kathryn Weidener is a professional storyteller and has been telling tales all her life. Her publishing credits include arielchart.blogspot.com, US1 Worksheets, Hobby Farm Magazine, and Sandpaper. A BA degree in Communication also led her through careers in social work, accounting and ESOL tutoring.She is the current matriarch of a long lineage of NJ farmers and gardeners. She and her husband lived an 1839 farmhouse on the Raritan River for 18 years and currently reside in Princeton, NJ. http://www.njstorynet.org/kathryn-weidener