Five days.  From winter's harshest blast of this or any recent year on Monday, to spring gorgeous sunshine on Friday.

I thought those bushes were gone
forever.  They were crushed to about a third of their normal height by the weight of the snow.  I expected bent and broken branches that wouldn't recover all summer.  I expected to have to pull them all out and start over.

But just five days later they're springing back,  as green and strong as if they lived the winter in gentle care in a green house.

Does the pressure make them stronger?  Does the soaking moisture invigorate brittle limbs?  Is it just a spring gift to a hopeless gardener who wasn't going to figure out any way to save them anyway?

I revel in the gift today.  The  gift of recovered shrubs, of the warmth of spring, of sunshine glinting off daffodils just beginning to  bloom.