Crocus friends

An icy wind blew off the Fox River last Saturday morning when my friend spotted our first crocus of 2024.

Naturally, I knelt down to take a picture.

I love crocuses almost as much as I love my friends, and I’ve been thinking lately about their similarities.

Crocuses are beautiful and so are my friends. I am struck by the apparent fragility of a crocus’ petals and how it belies a deep-rooted strength.

Crocuses cheer up the starkest landscape and appear, often unsummoned, just exactly when needed.

My friends are like that too.

Crocuses are low maintenance. Oh, sure, they might be comfortable in an etched crystal vase for a little while, but crocuses prefer to be grounded.

My friends look good with crystal too, but they don’t need it to shine. They’re a casual group, grounded and unpretentious.

Each crocus has its own style, and while those purple, yellow, white, mauve and pink blossoms reach proudly toward the sun, they never shade the other. In fact, clumps of crocuses encourage each other to grow.

My friends are like that too — bright bulbs of support, comfortable in their uniqueness and happy to light someone else’s way.

I’ve seen both friends and flowers weather some of life’s cruelest storms with astonishing courage, and emerge even stronger. When I see crocuses pop their bright heads through a mound of snow, I think of my friends and the resiliency they’ve shown.

Crocuses herald sunshine, warmth and fun. My friends do too.

Happy crocus season, friends!

It’s going to be a beautiful spring.