When I raised the shade this morning, snow had covered the ancient boxwoods over night. A limb of the hemlock that towers above the house drooped in front of my second story window. Out another window the lane, as alleys are called in Roland Park, looked wintrier than it had all winter. Daffodils on the bank across the street drooped their buttery heads over splayed foliage.
Before breakfast I went out back to brush snow from the early-blooming, Okame cherry tree. One limb was so weighted down that it looked as if it might snap.
The pairs of new boxwoods by the garden paths stood sentry in puffy white caps. The birdbath looked like a dish of marshmallow ice cream. Purple crocuses and primroses radiant last week were buried this morning. Only some blue flowers on the vinca showed and the backs of a few hellebores, most of which were buried.
Red berries on the aucuba bushes looked more like Christmas than Maryland Day. Such is March in a Baltimore garden.