Redbud Winter

A redbud in my front yard

The covers felt sooo good this morning! Technically it was one cover. I have already put away the warm fuzzy blankets. Knowing how fickle Mother Nature can be, and because I hate lighting it, the ventless heater is still on, so one cover was sufficient with Scooter the cat curled at my feet.

For the second morning my flower beds look a bit peculiar. Since the forecast was for temperatures dipping below freezing again, I covered my perennials that were just getting brave enough to peek out - one lone lily, several hostas and some sprouts I can’t name. And my tulips. I have one about to open and three more that are up with no buds yet. That’s like my creeping phlox. It’s all green. No patches of tiny lilac or fuchsia blossoms have yet appeared, odd since they are usually among the first of the colors to appear in my yard.

Maybe the phlox decided to wise up and wait for the passing of redbud winter. Now in early April, the redbud veils along the roadways are stunning, thus the rationale behind the naming of this cold snap. Folklore warns us we may have a dogwood winter later this month when that magnificent tree dots hillsides, trails and roadways with low canopies of brilliant white on distinctive silhouettes.

Blackberry winter was the only spring cold snap I knew of till recently. It isn’t until May when blackberries are blooming, not to be confused with the band from West Plains featured on the soundtrack of the film “Winter’s Bone.”

Old-timers referred to it as linsey-woolen britches winter, when warm undies had to be dug out one more time. I recall wearing bloomers that were put away after Easter. I guess we could have called it “bloomers winter.”

Wonder what today’s young’uns will call this spell when those extra clothes are yanked on for spring chills? Lined-leggings winter? Sweat pants winter? Bottoms winter? (pajama bottoms) Time will tell.