Has this winter been more interminable than most? Last March featured a bizarre turbo-springing heat wave, and by now the magnolias had shot their bolts and the hyacinths were fainting. This year, on the verge of April, the park is still mostly bare (except for brave daffodils in the undergrowth), and in my own garden, the croci have mostly forgotten to party.
At the Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket, bags of increasingly aged roots still predominate, but a cheering mountain of spinach appeared before the arch. The sun was strong enough for shades, and hothouse tulips (and pink shirts) bloomed.
On Saturdays, we park on President Street, grab a coffee from the Love Truck guy (who reminds us of Luke in "Gilmore Girls"), and cruise the market, then finish our errands while munching a pastry from Bread Alone (or, if we are virtuous, an apple). President Street should be aflame with forsythia by now, but they are barely budging; however, these enormous hellebores were nodding in a brownstone front garden. They are also called Lenten rose--how appropriate for this tardy spring, since Lent just ended!