I am beginning to wonder if our February freeze may have had some effects on our flowers and foliage. I mean, is it just me or does it seem, everything is bigger, brighter and more beautiful this year?

And the aroma! My Indian Hawthorns not only budded out beyond belief, but the smell is also incredible and with the jasmine that trellises on my arbor, its thousands of blooms smell divine, too.

This was also the first year the azaleas hubby has been tucking under some trees on the knoll in the yard have looked so good.

In fact, a couple of weeks ago, I got out the hedge trimmer and lopper and went to work cutting down and cleaning out the underbrush so I could enjoy them more.

I won’t talk about how sore I was when I finished, but at least I got my 10,000 steps in.

In an effort to find out if the wintry weather we had could have played a role in this colorful and aromatic spring, I did some looking online and found some evidence that it could have had an effect.

On one blog spot — Long Field Gardens to be exact — while it did not address all springtime vegetation, it did speak to spring bulbs.

Snow, it said, provides an insulating blanket that helps to keep soil temperatures warmer.

Also, when the snow melts it hydrates the soil and ensures spring bulbs have access to the moisture they need to produce strong roots, lush foliage and big flowers.

I’m just going to say, I think this had an effect on more than just bulbs because it’s been pretty all around Vicksburg.

The dogwoods downtown especially caught my attention on Easter Sunday.

While I don’t have hard scientific evidence that our week-long snow and ice storm had anything to do with the stunning landscape, I am going to err on the side that it did.

Beginning last spring it seems there have been quite a few unexpected happenings and it’s not just been the weather. We’ve had a worldwide pandemic, lockdowns that caused uncertainty,  and national unrest on the political and social fronts.

For me, it has felt like the world is topsy-turvy or maybe it’s inside out or up-side-down — I’m not sure which one, but it is shifting and right before my very eyes.

The thought of clinging to yesterday is gone, out the window, buried beneath the ground.

But wait, bulbs are buried beneath the ground and the harsh cold weather is what helps them produce stronger roots and bigger blooms.

Maybe this too could happen in the future.

Perhaps my uncertainty could be likened to the snow and I am afraid of the outcome, but as with the bulbs, what’s to come could be bigger and better we than ever imagined.