comments: 74






I don't know that I've ever settled into or been grateful for the dormancy of wintertime as much as I have this particular wintertime. This winter, with its Dutch oven, and cord of firewood, and quiet talks, and long walks, and black-bean soups, and beeswax candles, and cable TV, and milk frother, and eucalyptus baths, and our little animals, and worsted-weight softwools, and waxflowers, and wooden table . . . well. It's spoiled us a bit. We're soft now, I guess. I was going to take a little Clovermeadow animal for a walk yesterday but it just felt too cold, too windy, too rainy, and too wet outside for such comfort-loving creatures as we. So instead we scouted the yard for signs of spring and came back in with these cuttings (comfort-loving botanists). Turns out that if you're really looking, underneath the muck of rotten leaves and winter weeds and the soft slime that autumn left behind, there are tender greens and petals at the ready. Delicate, determined beauties. I wanted to find them. I'm not that anxious for spring, really. I just like to know that it's coming, someday. I like the quiet moving-toward. I like the hiding wonders. I like the longer, still-cold days. I like the translucent, nervous greens. There's a bird that sings in the early morning now, the past week or so. His song is so loud and vibrant against the silverquiet of the mercury-gray sky. I hear the trilling when I open the back door to let the dog out at dawn. It's a new, wild, disorganized solo, and I love it.

I took artistic license with the grape hyacinth above. He actually lives in a pot in the dining room. His younger cousins do live outside by the front picket fence, but are only showing their leaves. They're several weeks out. Perhaps I'll try to clean up the yard (which is a mess) so I can watch them come up from the dining room window. Or maybe not (too warm and lazy).


Thanks for sharing your buds with us...such signs of Spring promise!

Seriously love these pics! :-)

Promises of days to come. And a lovely reflection on the ones past.

Julie G. in Iowa says: February 22, 2012 at 09:39 AM

So beautifully written.
You should really, really write a book someday.

I am not worried about spring arriving, but we've had almost no rain or snow in Boston. I worry that our ground will be too dry for our plants.

How lovely. These photos belong in Living magazine spread.....

Beautiful. Makes me feel all cozy. We are having the same weather here in WA; gray skies, windy and cool. Love the description of your days. xx

Beautiful bits of spring.

New to your blog. Your photographs are lovely, what type of camera do you use? I have trouble on cloudy days but you seem to capture your subjects beautifully!

Thanks for helping me experience our Pacific northwest winter in a new light through your aptly picked words and pictures... I am excited watching your creative process...imagining a new emboidery project that may
spring forth from your talented being, Alicia.

Ooo, I know you were looking for botany-inspired needlepoint ideas and I love your arrangement in the last picture.

Wouldn't it be cool to have something similar for each season?

I'm impressed with your bravery to cut them! I feel like I have to protect them so, the very first signs of spring. If I cut them it's like all signs have disappeared and it's back to full winter and nothing but mud, mud, rotting leaves, mud and dog foot prints!

OH! :) What lovely views and words here today, as always! Your photos are fantastic. They remind me of the book you displayed yesterday, except in real life version!!

Happy day to you! :)



don't those little green shoots look pretty lying against the bland you, i don't wish to rush spring just yet. i love that i have daffodils already i can bring inside to brighten a sill, but after i brighten, i return to the big chair for more coziness.

(I am, quietly, here... it's all too lovely to disturb)

What a lovely idea of your botanical layout of bits and bobs from your garden. You've given me an idea and it will be lovely to wandering around my garden peeking underneath the blobs of snow still waiting for the sun.
Hubby loves to hear how Clover Meadow's days are, and now I've introduced him to Bee. Thank you.

Oh gosh, I know just what you mean! I am appreciating winter so much this year, too. I find myself looking up at the bare tree limbs against the grey sky and hoping they stay leafless just a little while longer. They look so delicate and pretty and hopeful.

I love this post, and smiled at your grape hyacinth confession. Here in the southern hemisphere, as we stagger from late summer into early autumn, I might be one of the few people who eagerly anticipates the types of days you describe. There's nothing like winter nesting weather! It's the season for comfort and nurturing.

Love the look of this... I hope it's more inspiration for your next project ;)

The sight of candy tuft blossoms and camellia buds bring back happy childhood memories of exploring my grandfather's garden in Western Oregon. I can smell the green. Thank you.

Gorgeous. I think your arrangement would make for a beautiful embroidery project, hint hint. :)

Jeanne Ternahan says: February 22, 2012 at 12:01 PM

So beautifully written.

They would make a lovely sampler!

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About Alicia Paulson


My name is Alicia Paulson
and I love to make things. I live with my husband and daughter in Portland, Oregon, and design sewing, embroidery, knitting, and crochet patterns. See more about me at