Pleasure's in the waiting

February is over at long last! What a relief to be done with the worst of winter. March may get cranky and downright nasty but at least we are treated to the occasional beautiful day. Somehow that makes up for all the bluster.

I have made the rounds of the flower beds several times already. The daffodils are up about an inch and I can barely see the curled tips of the tulips as they taste the spring breezes. The crocuses and snowdrops are waiting for warmer weather to wake up from their naps.

The houseplants also seem to realize that spring is approaching and soon they will be allowed to go back outside to soak up the sun. The kalanchoe that blooms this time of year is just beginning to put on a show. There is one indoor plant that I am anxiously watching. Our bird of paradise, Strelitzia regeniae, is getting ready to bloom for the very first time.

We bought seeds for this plant at a home and garden show many years ago. There were three seeds for five dollars or so. We considered that to be very expensive for potential plants but cheap for a bit of hope, which is what seeds represent.

After we tucked each colorful pea-sized morsel of life into its own pot we settled down to read the instructions. It was with dismay that we learned that it would be at least five years before we would see the first bloom.

One seed failed to germinate but the other two grew for a few months before one gave up and abandoned us.

Five years came and went with no hint of a bloom. The plant grew and grew and demanded bigger and bigger pots. We gave up on ever seeing flowers.

Now it is all I can do to reach around its container to carry it outside each summer.

Then a week or so ago I noticed a shoot. At first I thought nothing of it as I assumed it was just another foot-long leaf.

Then it bent and assumed a faint red blush at its elbow. We are now convinced that it is a bud and sometime in the next few weeks we will see a brilliant yellow, blue, red and purple blossom.

In places where this plant grows naturally, nobody cares if it blooms or not. In this area it is considered to be a temperamental tropical. It is a major coup to coax it into bloom.

It seems to be like that with most things.

Things that are rare or unusual get lots more attention than common, everyday stuff. If the truth be told, dandelions are quite beautiful. Their sunny yellow flowers are as pretty as any rose and much easier to grow. Because they are so common and so prolific we call them weeds and do everything we can to eliminate them.

Each summer I look for dandelions in the flower beds and yank them out. I dig the purslane out of the sidewalk cracks, oblivious to the many gardening catalogs that are now selling purslane as a new and desirable introduction. We want the things we don’t have and don’t want what we do have.

I assume that somewhere the bird of paradise plant is considered an invasive pest instead of a cherished guest in the house. This is not one of those places.

Waiting for the bud to open up is much like waiting for winter to be over. We watch and wait and hope. We poke at the half-frozen gardens in a vain attempt to persuade spring to arrive just a little sooner. We notice each tiny change.

We stroke the bud of the bird of paradise to try to let it know that it is time to reveal itself. None of it does any good. Spring will arrive in its own sweet time and the bud won’t open until the plant decides the time is right. Anticipation colors our hope.

Without anticipation, the change of the seasons and the opening of a long-awaited flower are meaningless. The anticipation gives as much pleasure as the arrival of the event itself.

Maybe that is why I like flowers so much. I am addicted to the high I get from seeing my expectations fulfilled and sometimes exceeded. I like the anticipation.

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