Dirt (and Dead Plants) Never Looked So Good

It snowed in early December, quite a bit for the western edge of Colorado, maybe five or six inches. And then, a few days later, it snowed again. I remember it being lovely and welcoming it, like we always do with every first snowfall of the season.

Its depth and whiteness and blanketing effect stuck around for most of the winter, never melting, overstaying its welcome.

And then the weather began warming up. The next precipitation we got was rain. Rain in winter. Rain at 33 degrees.

This past week it got into the 50s. The dirt in my front yard–actually it’s crushed granite I spread between the little plants I put in two summers ago when I xeriscaped my yard–was revealed, bit by bit, until this weekend when, finally, all the snow was gone. I said hello to my plants, which had been buried all winter.

When I pull up to my house now, what I see is dirt and little dead plants, and let me tell you, it’s a beautiful sight.

Spring is supposed to be green and colorful and bursting with life. And it will be. When it arrives. For now, it’s the tail end of winter and it’s all gray and still dead, but it looks good. Real good.

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