It’s April. I’m a desperate woman, running out to my back Northern Girl garden with the digital camera every time Golden Pup has to squat. It’s not the squatting I’m interested in chronicling. It’s the sprouts.

I start this craziness in February, in between snow plops. But it really isn’t until maybe mid-March, beginning of April that I actually find any green sprouts.

What always surprises me is that the chives are as early as the crocus. I don’t expect that.

This is straight out of the camera this morning. Please excuse my scruffy soil. It’s still in shock over Mama Weather’s mood swings this winter. They were severe.

Again, SOC. Lookin’ out my back door. Thank you CCR. And just around the corner by the dreen tube, I mean drain pipe, my personal patch of sprouts. What keeps me going until the tulips and daffs and forsythia go crazy.

Mercy! I just love this shot. It’s soft and pretty. I just couldn’t touch it with an application. Some things are just better without primping. Au naturel. That’s what that is.

And now I’ve said just three times. Make that four. I blame it on Saturday.

Is there something sprouting in your garden? Hit me with it. But be kind, if you’re in the grip of a full-blown southern spring. Mama Weather always did love you best.

Elen