Spring is popping up in the mountains. Of course, in Atlanta, where I live now, spring comes about two weeks earlier than in my Kentucky mountains.
What joy it brings each year as the FLAHRS start popping out of the dirt and above the snow to add color, beauty, and hope after a frigid winter.
You know what FLAHRS are, right? Okay, some folks pronounce it FLARES and a few more citified people call them FLOWERS.
Granny used to come out onto the porch after a cold winter, sit in her rocking chair, breathe in a deep breath, and say, "Just look at them purdy FLAHRS popping up all over the place. Spring's sprung."
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| Snowdrops |
Robins hopped between sprouting grass clumps as they searched for juicy earthworms. Buds of green appeared on the bare limbs of the trees. Critters chased each other in their spring mating dances, promising a new batch of varmints to chase out of the garden.
But the FLAHRS were what I waited for each spring. The bright yellow of the daffodils and forsythia echoed the sunshine with their warmth.
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| Wild violets |
My favorite spring FLAHRS have always been the wild violets. I'm not sure if it is the purple of the petals or the game of rooster we used to play with them that made them special. Did you play rooster? That's when you and a friend take a violet and interlock their heads; then you yank your violets by the stem. The one whose violet still has its head wins.
Other favorite spring FLAHRS included iris, peonies, and the FLAHRin' trees.
What are your favorite springtime FLAHRS?
My favorite flares are Ragged Britches (Cosmos) since they were my mother's favorites.
ReplyDeleteI still say "flares" when I'm relaxed and with my husband, who is British. When I'm around other folks I say "flowers" 'cause I know they're not smart enough to know what I'm talking about otherwise.