When I was growing up, I always came down with a strep throat just as Spring vacation was starting. Until I finally had my tonsils removed at age eleven, I was usually sick for my early April birthday, or Easter, or both. This year I'm reverting to form and have spent most of my time since last weekend in bed, or wrapped in blankets in front of the fireplace — while everyone in the neighborhood is out working in their yards and gardens. I pretty much feel like this little crocus: valiantly trying to perk up and push through this spot of unpleasantness.
In case you are curious, this is what a Northern urban garden — located at the curbside of a busy street — looks like each Spring once the snow melts. It is covered in all the detritus that the plows pick up with the snow and toss into the garden. Usually I remove all this gunk with great care, so as little as possible remains on the garden. Then I replace those old leaves with mulch. But this Spring, the garden is going to be left to its own devices a little while longer.