Hellebores in March

 

 

Hellebores bloom through the last layers of thaw. We kneel and stare as if they were our newborns. We planted these five years ago and this is the earliest they’ve blossomed. Big white pines lean over the site. The hellebores aren’t intimidated. They will flower all summer and into autumn. We should try to emulate them. We need a reflowering, another shot at glory. But it’s teatime, so we leave the hellebores to their musings and go indoors. I plug in the electric kettle and pluck a couple of tea bags from the big red Typhoo box. We drink our tea in silence. The first flowers of spring always seem a little sad. After washing and putting away the cups we step outside for another look at the hellebores, but it’s raining hard now, erasing the last tatters of snow. The sky looms low and bulky. It never looks so large as when the clouds stoop to brush our faces. The rain is fondling the flowers and encouraging them. Why do we feel small and awkward when such large forces gather? We need that reflowering but doubt it will come.