The dearth of snow continues. Can we still call these little early flowers “snowdrops” when there’s no snow? “Raindrops” is already taken. Lawndrops? Not only are they coming up in lawn instead of snow, but the lawn is already turning green.

It’s hard to know how much temperature shift to take into account for next year’s plantings since change, including climate change, proceeds in a zigzag fashion. Even if the long-term trend is higher up the zone chart, it could still be cold again next winter. On the other hand, it could just keep right on warming up. I worried about my scilla, also known as Siberian Squill, but it turns out not to be native to Siberia at all, and is said to be able to flourish up to Zone 8. So I have two zones to spare.

Hellebores turn out to be native to the Mediterranean, which makes me wonder what on earth they’re doing blooming in Michigan in February and March – in snow, when we had any. Apparently they’ll be fine if Ann Arbor warms up.

I was able to grow paperwhite narcissus outdoors when I lived in Southern California, but had mixed results with other daffodils and tulips. In my front yard here I have an extremely satisfying collection of daffodils that bloom from March through April and into early May. The first of these are out and dancing right now, in the rain, little happy suns.

Deer do not eat any of these – the tulips they would love to feast on are coming up inside the fenced part of the garden. Rabbits will nibble on the emerging buds of grape hyacinth, but the hawks and owls are keeping the rabbits in check at the moment. That balance of power shifts sometimes for reasons I haven’t figured out. The bunnies are not abroad yet, but as Easter approaches my little window of Bunny Appreciation opens. Critters responsible for lovely baskets, brightly painted eggs, chocolate candy, and new beginnings, surely deserve to be cut a little slack while I check the garden fence for break-ins.