
I noticed a small cluster of them having risen off the ground on Manhattan's West Side. No flowers yet, just the shoots. The assembly was not drawing any attention.
In fact, I was lucky to have noticed it at all in the middle of a garden traffic divider that separates the north bound from the south bound West Side Highway.
Spring's first sign, however, beckoned. It beckoned to me privately and made me reflect that the grunt and grump old Winter is on decay. The year's next climate cycle was promised this morning by nothing less than Mother Nature's first calling card.
There are a thousand more words to this entry, but I'll just allow you as a reader to contemplate as to what the krokus means to you this year and of what lies ahead.
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