I see buds so subtle
they know, though fat, that this is no time to bloom.
~John Updike from “December, Outdoors”
Yesterday, our farm trees and bushes filled with buds of ice reflecting a bright and crisp Christmas sunlight. It was a crystalline wonderland celebrating the subtle beauty of winter.
Yet even today at the local grocery store garden centers, there will no longer be buyers for “winter” products — overnight, Christmas completely disappears except for the “remainder” and “two-for-one” tables. Unsold poinsettias and fresh evergreen wreaths are hauled away along with the oddly shaped and drying Christmas trees to make way for containers of unbearably cheerful primroses and early forced narcissus and hyacinth plants. Barely a week into winter, Valentine’s Day and spring will be right in our faces as we wheel past with the grocery cart, a seductive lure to effectively skip a whole season of restorative watch-and-wait. Color and fragrance and lush blooms are handed to us without even taking a breather.
Dormant plants and hibernating animals have the right idea this time of year: “already, but not yet.” Rather than slogging daily through the burden of mud, skittering precariously across icy fields or reaching up out of snow drifts, they quietly rest up. Well fed and pregnant with potential, they are alive and well beneath a facade of sleep. Come out too early and risk starvation and frostbite.
So it’s not yet time to bloom — being a subtle bud is exactly what is needed. Out-of-season blossoms need not apply.
We swell with potential to dream dreams of a glorious growth to come.