Little bits of happy

It is not often that anything on public radio makes me laugh out loud, but this morning's poem on The Writer's Almanac, Bridal Shower, by George Bilgere did just that.

My 'Firefly' snow crocuses are blooming. Every year, they bloom just when I need them most and I tell myself I will plant more. More by the front walk. More over under the trees where the hellebores are. More anyplace I can think to stick them. So far, I haven't done that. But maybe this year.

A heath I planted a few years ago is also blooming, tiny pearl-pink bells which are barely visible from 10 feet away but are there and beautiful and even miraculous.

All flowers are, I think, miraculous. But since I didn't expect the heath to survive, much less bloom, the miraculous nature of those blossoms is perhaps more apparent.