The indomitable spirit of the fuchsia

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It seems like this winter just won’t end. Snow, snow, freezing polar vortices, and then more snow. Now yet another darn polar votex. Just when I thought we had finally shaken these frozen annoyances off this past week, the temperatures are scheduled to drop to 10° Fahrenheit (12° C) again tonight. And then they’ll bob up and down a bit. Ugh.

Usually the whole wintery drama stops in the middle of March and I can set the plants out again. This year, I think spring’s going to be a little late. Maybe that cursèd groundhog in Pennsylvania was on to something. Or maybe I shouldn’t have called him comely. Sibyls don’t always like being called comely, even they are Grundsauen. Word gets around the underground community.

Right now the potted fuchsias are still overwintering inside the apartment. We’ve all been overwintering inside since December in fact. Since it is an apartment, in the City, plants end up where they end up in the fall. Some in the window. Some under the lights. A few by the garden door.

They’re supposed to be slumbering away in happy semi-dormancy, but I do think that some of them are getting as anxious as I am to get on with spring. It brought a surprised smile to my face to see that one of them seems to be impatiently reaching for the door. Such optimism. Tomorrow it’s off to the Spring Flower Show in Philadelphia. If the fuchsias won’t take winter for an answer, I’m not taking it either.

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