Here come the weeds. You can’t see them yet but as a longtime something of a garden caretaker I can feel and hear them growing, ready to crack the surface.
The stuff we like is also growing. Plants from forgotten bulbs are breaking green. The lilac bush whose buds have been ready since before Christmas. And the insects are coming at us with the first bit of sunshine.
Only one patch of sad lawn remains in our yard. I’ve planted stones and old bricks throughout. Lawn belongs in parks and maybe not so much there. We live in the West where precious water should not be wasted on useless greenery.