taking home lavender

The cactus has finished its period of bloom. Time to pick up something else that will brighten a February morning. Typically I’d go for the daffodils that begin to show up in grocery stores right about now. But the daffodil has a perfect moment, followed by days when it looks sad and aging. Whereas a potted bloomer lasts. And perhaps will last some more on the windowsill of the farmhouse, come spring time.

I pass over the cut flowers and buy a potted lavender that’s about to bloom.

I forget that it’s cold outside. (Lavender, at least this particular strain of lavender, doesn't like icy cold.)





Really cold. Coldest of the cold days. And I’m traveling by bus.

I wait at the stop with a potted flower that's  bundled in two plastic pastry bags. Hang in there, lavender!

Around me, I notice the snow piles, still high, still not entirely cleared around the bus stop, still, in places, burying fire hydrants.





What a winter!

I think about the little lavender and the sill where it will eventually stand, taking in the sun of a southern farmhouse exposure.

The bus comes, warm as always, I get on.

It’s hard to believe that in a month or so, I’ll be biking to work again. Not just yet though. Not just yet.