Spring started with the paper whites popping open, giving hope of the return of life. Then the quince bloomed with its scarlet petals stark against the bare branches. Violets peeked out and plums blossomed. More quince brightened the scene. The days grew warmer and the pale pink rose, the one that grows from cuttings and has thorns like barbed wire, began to open and cascade from the roof line. In another spot, the gift of the birds, a wild blackberry blooms and sets fruit while the not-a-lady bug procreates. Across the yard is a wall of color. The azalea bushes that I moved from my parents house are in full bloom. Spring sprang into my yard and I like it.