March marks the passage that imprisons winter in the limbo of memories, and nature explodes as if by magic. And she changes her dress, of a party dress. A saraband of colors sometimes envious of the rainbow, others of the snow recently left but dominating in the nearby mountains, invincible titans that stand out to stop the wind, eager to run on the world. But here, in the garden, there are no elements of brute force to tell the story, only blossoming shoots that sing of spring.