Now that Spring has arrived in earnest here in New England, we have our usual share of 'small' flowers to pick.... white and purple Violets, Grape Hyacinth, Scilla, Myrtle, Pot-of-Gold. Diminutive visitors who venture out after so many months of grey and cold, their color and greenery a welcome carpet underfoot, growing more lush and verdant with each sunny day.
Spring's pleasures are not only small but also sumptuous—the fecund Andromeda hangs like bunches of grapes, casting its scent over the pergola as I sit and drink my first 'outdoor' cup of tea of the year; the Forsythia, filtered by sunlight, casts a golden glow over the pavement; and the Viburnum sends its intoxicating aroma onto the verandah each night. I pluck small pieces now and then, adding height, color and scent to the tiny arrangements I sprinkle throughout the cottage.
Once May has lengthened and the sun rides higher in the sky all this will change of course. The delicate garden will be overrun by greenery, and the once sparse carpet of blue and lavender will be hidden by waves of Phlox, Yarrow, Evening Primrose, Russian Sage and Loosestrife. Even now I see the signs: the Catmint is up and will soon provide a bushy haven for my neighbor's cats; the Iris are setting buds and their purple flags will unfurl like a delicate honor guard along the front pathway; the Bleeding hearts are about to open, shedding a pink arc of color over the nubs of Hosta that are waiting to unwind; and the rose hedge is rapidly greening, ready for the tiny buds that will appear along each thorny branch.
All in good time. But for now? Now I delight in the small gifts of spring. Her miniature bounty of doll-sized flowers, gathered each morning to nest in salt shakers, cordial cups, and inkwells. Hunca-Munca bouquets to fill the house with promise. Or hang on a neighbor's doorway.