Timely, at the very least, while the environment is still in its initial warming stages and we can veer unexpectedly from miserable blast of late-winter weather back toward promising spring weather, to haul all the outdoor furniture out from winter storage, put it in place, and hope that the uncertainty will be replaced by reliably warm, mild weather.

That seems to be the way growing things are gambling, a result of their being imbued with the kind of resilience that allows them by nature to foster optimism.  It never fails to surprise that the clockwork mechanism of seasonal climatic alterations inspires trees and perennials to resolve their own issues of whether to remain comfortably hidden a little longer, or to spring to life.

And then there are the temptations to hang colourful baskets of annuals while night-time temperatures still drop below the freezing mark. 

So, although we don't subscribe to the commercialization of human emotions, memory and thanksgiving, it's coincidental but circumstantial that in concert with Mother's Day my husband brought home two hanging baskets for the front of the house and two for the deck, of brilliantly blooming begonias.