Our camellias are confused.  The year before last the blossoms on the bush to the east of the house (we’ll call them The Easterns) bloomed in January.  Last year, they appeared before Christmas and I began to think it was a trend.  Something to do with climate change, no doubt. The buds on the other camellias, though, — the bush to the south (The Southerns) of the house – appeared toward the end of February.  Just like usual.

It used to be that both bushes ‘came out’ together – just in time to celebrate my birthday at the end of February.  Granted, they are different varieties.  One sports large, showy pink blossoms that last and last.  The other has smaller blossoms of a darker-pink-edging-toward-salmon and they fall off their stems way too quickly.

Yesterday, though, I noticed the first blossoms on both bushes – later than in recent years for the Easterns and earlier for the Southerns.  Solidarity in the garden?  Or just a bit of bewilderment while the weather and climate are trying to sort themselves out?  Unlike the rest of us trying to deal with uncertainties, the flowers don’t sport signs or wear special hats.  They’re more subtle.

It occurs to me, too, that the camellias may have taken on the role of Garden Heralds, bursting forth to alert the lilacs and rhododendrons and daffodils that ‘It’s Time!” And that even though they aren’t quite sure that winter storms and icy days are over for this year, they don’t want to miss out lest the weather gods skip spring entirely.

I do know, of course, that there are varieties of camellias that bloom at different times of year here in the Northwest.   With over 30,000 cultivars of the Camellia Japonica species (that’s what ours are), there are some that even bloom continuously from November to April.  Ours, though, have traditionally bloomed from late February until the end of March.  This early foray into the world is a relatively new adventure for them.

As for me… I am full of admiration for their bravery and thankful-to-the-max for their cheery reminder that there is always hope for a brighter future.  I went right outside and told them so, too!