Yesterday, I was worried that the bulbs I planted last fall had died over the winter.

Today, it’s like Annie Dillard says in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek:

they say of nature that it conceals with a grand nonchalance, and they say of vision that it is a deliberate gift, the revelation of a dancer who for my eyes only flings away her seven veils. For nature does reveal as well as conceal: now-you-don’t-see-it, now-you-do.

These were simply not there yesterday.
New shoots of crocus and tulip

Here they are today, coming right up through the snow.
crocus poking through the snow

And the more I looked, the more tiny shoots of green and red I could see, just waiting to spring into the light tomorrow. If it doesn’t snow.