My Honey took me out for a coffee date yesterday afternoon.  We went to Adelaide’s (finally open again – hooray!) and I had a twelve-ounce-decaf-mocha-no-whipped-cream.  It was lovely.  Afterwards, we picked up some books at the library and I noticed that the cherry trees are in bloom – at least I think they’re cherry trees.  The blossoms are a lacy, delicate pink.
     Spring seems to be spotty in Oysterville.  Bradley’s daffodils came on, but later than last year.  The flowering cherry trees in front of the schoolhouse on Territory Road are blooming “sort of.”  They aren’t lovely and airy-fairy like the ones in Ocean Park, though. And, as for our garden – so far, not so good.
     The hyacinth border around our south and east garden beds has leafed up beautifully.  But, so far, no flowers.  Usually I can count on those hyacinths to provide a mass of color during the gloomy days of late February and early March.  Maybe they’ve decided to give this year a miss.
     I’m not giving up hope, though.  We finally have masses of camellias – six weeks later than usual, but welcome all the same.  Next to them, the lilacs are budding out, seemingly on schedule for their usual profusion in May.  Camellias and lilacs in bloom together will be a new experience for our garden.  Our apple trees are late, too.  By this time last year they were in full flower, but it looks like it will be another few weeks this time around.  IF we get some sunshine!
     According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word “spring” as a season has to do with the notion of the “spring of the year,” when plants “spring up” (cf. spring of the leaf, 1530s).  This year in Oysterville the season is so tentative I think we should change its name to “slack” or “slack blossom.”
     The oystermen talk about “tide water slack” – that time between the flooding and ebbing of the tide when the water slows down and apparently ceases to move.  I definitely think we are in a slack-blossom period here along the banks of Willapa Bay.  Nothing much is springing forth in the plant world; everything appears to be waiting for summer.  Me too.