I woke up this morning to a loud, familiar sound just outside my bedroom window. The low rumbling terrified me to my very core and in dreaded anticipation, I walked to the window silently pleading, Please don't let it be... The snow plow. A fresh layer of white had fallen on the the newly emerging patches of green on the ground. Now everything was again white. I love the snow, don't get me wrong. And it's beautiful too, it's just been... too white for too long.
I stopped by my husband's work where he was pulling a double shift on this President's Day. He told me that he wanted to show me something and took me to Thomas Edison's green house. I entered into a warm oasis of vibrant color amidst the never ending white. I couldn't stop taking pictures. I was especially struck by the shape the blooms made against the steamy, glass greenhouse wall. (Click on photos to enlarge)
One tiny orange, growing out of season.
This flower has a face. Can you see it?
These flowers were truly a bright spot in my white day!