The snowdrops are up in the back yard!
And so are a bunch of other guys, just barely!
(I even got my hands dirty in the garden today; I discovered a bag of four pale-yellow "Gipsy Princess" hyacinths that I'd never planted, bravely sprouting in the dark, and stuck them in the ground. Global warming indeed, the ground wasn't remotely frozen even 8 inches down. I also filled the bird feeders, added to the compost heap for the first time in months, and tossed the Christmas wreath in the trash--exhilarating!)
But the goodness doesn't end there. How often does the news of the day bring tidings of a monster fossilized toad called Beelzebufo? (Here he is shown with a very large contemporary toad and a pencil for comparison; the effect, to me, is an inadvertent allegory of a freelance writer facing her editor at deadline.)
And speaking of fossilized toads, we learn that Fidel will be passing the torch of liberation to a new generation (or maybe just to his Beelzebuffish brother). Out with the devil toads, in with the snowdrops!