torsdag den 25. marts 2010

Thy´s Day # 10

I am sure you cannot see any difference between
these little miracles
and the ones I posted last spring.

BUT THEY ARE FINALLY HERE
- AND I WANT TO SHARE THEM WITH ALL OF YOU

8 kommentarer:

Anonym sagde ...

Dorte - These are lovely! Thanks for the beautiful 'photo. The first flowers of spring are such a sign of hope, aren't they?

Kelly sagde ...

I know you are so glad to see some Spring!!

These are lovely.

Dorte H sagde ...

Margot: yes, indeed. In a month or two we will have hundreds of large, bright flowers, but the tiny spring flowers in delicate shades are always the best.

Kelly: I have been waiting like a little child before Christmas. And right now it is like an explosion.

Elizabeth Spann Craig sagde ...

My grandmother had some of the white ones! She called them Snowdrops. Not sure what they're actually called.

Elizabeth
Mystery Writing is Murder

Bente Pedersen sagde ...

Dear Dorte!

As uou I just become a newborn child when it`s springtime. I get so joyfull everytime I find new signs outside. All the tiny flowers,the birds starts singing again and now also the incects as butterflies,bies,and flies are humming around.

Dorte H sagde ...

Elizabeth: they are cute, aren´t they? I don´t know any other English name for them than snowdrops. The Danish name is ´vintergæk´. It means something like winter jester.

Bente: you are right, spring means such a difference to your mood and health! And today my Easter holidays begin!

betteskov sagde ...

Loving the pictures!
I apologize to all the non-Danish people, but I have to share a little poem. One of my favorite "gruks" (Dorte, what is gruk in English?):

At forår blir til efterår
er et tegn på tiden går
men at vinter blir til sommer
er et tegn på tiden kommer

Tak til Piet Hein for at sige det så simpelt og rigtigt!

Dorte H sagde ...

Gruk in English? Even though I was called an oracle last week, I must admit I don´t know.

Well, now I googled it (so presumably Google is the real oracle), and I can see they are called grooks.

Never mind the name; his poems are wonderful little vitamin injections for any season - just like our snowdrops in the garden.