Western Bluebird of Happiness

More than once I have caught myself embroiled in a self-pity party. Human? Yes. Productive? Not so sure. Here is the odd thing, though. I swear, I am being followed by a bluebird.

I don't mean a bird whose color is blue. On the Monterey Peninsula that would likely be a Stellar's Jay or a Scrub Jay, both of which are fairly common species to see. I mean a Western Bluebird. Western Bluebirds are commonly seen in the CSUMB/former Ft. Ord area, but are rarely seen on the Peninsula, according to my local expert birding friend.

The first time a Western Bluebird interrupted my moment of discouragement was months ago. My workplace has a lot of birds, but mostly Canadian geese, pigeons and gulls. At that particular moment, I remember staring blankly out of my office window and then suddenly realizing that I was focused on a Western Bluebird who had perched on a parking lot sign. It you are lucky enough to see a Western Bluebird, you might be stunned at how spectacular its coloring is. I certainly was, though my co-workers only understood my glee enough to make bluebird of happiness comments.

Today's encounter was eerily like the first. I was walking outside an office near downtown Monterey and had just come from a very long meeting which had been proceeded by a very disappointing email. Just to make sure you can imagine my mood, think about the storm clouds that graced us with their presence today. Got it? Multiply by ten. That's how I felt inside. About a second later I was stunned to see a gorgeous Western Bluebird perched right in my path. Call me crazy, but I swear that bird was posing for me as I dropped my folders and tried to get a picture with my iPhone. Unfortunately, you can't really identify it as a Western Bluebird from the picture posted above. I'm including it anyway just so I can prove that it was there.

Ration and probability suggest that likely the two birds I saw on the two separate occasions are not the same individual bird. Then again, ration would suggest that I am not being followed by a Western Bluebird of Happiness. Here's the thing that I find intriguing: bluebirds are associated with positive sentiments and are deeply rooted symbols in American, Asian and European culture. Isn't it odd that twice one should cross my path just when I needed it? Personally, I am open to messages from the Universe telling me to stop the self pity and get on with life.

Primroses

I feel badly complaining that I have the winter blues. Some parts of the country are blanketed with snow, while we on the Central Coast are not even waterlogged with rain. But I feel them anyway, perhaps because of the short days. This is normal for me, and I find that getting a daily dose of natural light and fresh air helps a lot.

In anticipation of Spring, I am usually one of the first people buying tulip, daffodil and hyacinth bulbs in September. Though they don't even need to be planted for months around here, simply having them brings me a sense of security and anticipation. I've even purchased them when I didn't have a place to plant them. I'm a little less sorry to see the holiday season pass when I know that January brings with it a new start in the garden. Once I've recycled my holiday wreath, I turn to those carefully stored bulbs and spend a happy weekend afternoon re-filling pots with soil and pressing them into their chilly new homes. It's good for me and everyone around me.

Except for this year. I completely forgot to buy bulbs this year. I can't even remember why I was too busy or distracted, I'm just sure that I was.

Like a student who has suddenly realized she has an important homework assignment due, I considered quick solutions: Drive to local gardening centers and nurseries hoping to scrounge a few together? Pay a premium price for bulbs already forced in pots? Sneak into a neighbor's yard and hijack a few? The second two possibilities seemed a little too unsavory, so I went with the first. My attempts were deeply disappointing. Finally, I conceded that it was too late for tulips.

Happily, January gardening holds an alternative for those of us starved for blooms: primroses. Neither prim nor a rose, these happy plants brighten the gloomiest of days with their bold colors and are tough enough to take the coldest temperatures we have on the Central Coast. They even re-bloom through out the Winter if you pinch off the spent blossoms and protect them from snails. As an added bonus, they attract hummingbirds with their shape.

On one of my recent trips to a local garden shop, a small sign reading "In the midst of chaos lies creativity" caught my eye. Perhaps I missed the tulips due to chaos, but I haven't lost my creativity. Primroses are not as sexy or elegant as tulips, but they get the job done if a hint of Spring is what you're after.