Crocuses and how it could keep getting better…

It’s officially crocus season, and that’s good news out here on the edge of the badlands where we’ve all been patiently waiting for them to arrive, as if the blooming of the first flower gives us permission to pack away our sweaters and pull out the short sleeves.

Well, that’s what I did anyway. I made a mountain out of the sweaters shoved in my closet. I pulled them out ceremoniously flinging them to the floor, purging my room of winter before I stood back and seriously contemplated throwing them out the window and lighting a match on the whole damn pile.

But that would have been crazy, and, well, let’s be honest, I’ll need them again in a few short months. Anyway, I didn’t have time for that. Little Sister was coming over and she had plans to soak up the sunshine and I had plans to procrastinate painting the bathroom.

So we grabbed our cameras and the herd of dogs…

One…

Two…

Three…

Four.

and went climbing around, scouring the ground for the purple flower.


Turns out we didn’t have to go far.





When you become familiar with a place in all of it’s seasons, you memorize where the crocuses bloom in the spring, where to go to pick chokecherries and raspberries in the summer, and to always, no matter the season, watch out for cactus.

We know these places because prairie people like us have vivid memories of hunting for crocuses with our grandmother, sisters, mothers or fathers, bending over to pull them from the tangle of brown grass while the warm spring wind picked up the loose hair that escaped from our ponytails.

I’ve been living back at the ranch for three springs and I will be here for the rest of the springs I am given. I will never forget what it felt like to climb to that hilltop and pick the first crocus of the year as I stood with my husband we looked down at our home.

And we were happy to be together, happy for summer to arrive and happy to stand on that hill for a moment that we were sure couldn’t get much better from here.

Then my Little Sister moved to our hometown and now the whole family is together and close and on Monday mornings I can expect a call asking me what I’m doing this weekend. Because my Little Sister plans ahead and I’m glad to be consulted on those plans.

So Saturday’s plans made room for crocus hunting in the warm sunshine next to a girl who used to follow me on my after school walks up the creek to my fort. I used to wish she would leave me alone then. I used to holler at her to stop following me and when we came in the house crying and fighting, our mom would promise us that someday, we would be best friends.

Funny how moms are usually, most likely, pretty much, always exactly right.

Funny how some things change, but I still haven’t mastered the art of convincing Little Sister to help me with my chores…like, oh, you know, painting the bathroom.

Funny how she still doesn’t listen to me.

Funny how the crocuses bloom on the same hill every year and someday we might have a chance to watch our own children run to the top and pick us a purple bloom.

Funny how it could possibly keep getting better.

10 thoughts on “Crocuses and how it could keep getting better…

  1. Hunting for crocuses was always a highlight of my family’s spring up near Ambrose! Although I have to say we didn’t have nearly as many as there are down here. I was happy to find a bunch in our pasture this weekend! 🙂

  2. I grew up in ND and always think of corcuses in the spring. Now I live in NM and many of the wild flowers are the same, but I have still to find a crocus in NM. Enjoy for me too, and thanks for sharing. Jan J

  3. These are some of your best! I’m always stunned by how well you manage to incorporate words and pictures into one, flowing tale that makes the rest of us feel like we are just really missing out. Thanks for sharing your gifts! Always looking forward to your next post…

  4. Pingback: Crocuses and how it could keep getting better…[Jessy Vieder] | El Noticiero de Alvarez Galloso

  5. Beautiful pictures … Growing up in the Badlands, crocuses have always been one of my favorites! Thank you for sharing Jessie you’re a thoughtful writer…

  6. I remember the crocuses. They were so pretty after the starkness of the winter. Then later came the tiger lilies. They were beautiful. Nothing like the wild flowers.

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