A Reflection of Snow Clouds on the Lily Pond

It is springtime in Pennsylvania, which means that one day feels like summer and the next feels like winter again. This was one of the latter. Temperatures dropped over the week, and there were snow showers for much of the day on Thursday. But the snow didn't accumulate; didn't even stay on the ground, really.

I drove to work in a mini snowstorm, under darkened skies, hoping against hope that the skies would clear just as I arrived at the Arboretum, which was my first and possibly best destination of the day. I sat in my car for a minute, waiting for the flurries to pass so I could get out my camera.

But it didn't stop, so I grabbed my umbrella and went anyway. I was kneeling by the Arboretum's lily pond (possibly still my favorite part of these wonderful gardens), huddling under my umbrella, taking pictures of the dark clouds reflected on its surface. Then somebody rode a bicycle by and looked at me funny, and I realized it had stopped snowing a while ago and I could probably ditch the umbrella. And so I did.

I thought this photo represented the mix of seasons well. You can see the colors that are starting to arrive on our landscape. Just outside the right frame is a lovely planter full of blooming tulips. There are thousands more tulips in the beds over to the left, beyond the pollinator garden, getting ready to burst open.

A breeze sprang up and sent ripples across what is usually a placid, glassy surface, sending the reflection of those wintry clouds splintering into a million pieces. And I smiled and thought to myself: there may be dark clouds above us, but they cannot obscure or overcome the promises of springtime, for surely it is coming, it is coming anyway . . .

The song to accompany this image is Martina McBride and Pat Benatar, performing one of Pat's best tunes of all time: Promises in the Dark.