One day, spring trudges out of mud, the next, it dances.

Quickly, look up at the rise above Oak Street at the patch of blue squills, or scilla. Planted years ago, the tiny flowers have spread into a briefly-blooming mat. It announces spring without even trying.

In another town, bright crocuses sown into a grassy verge between sidewalk and highway spell out the words, “Spring is here.” Yearly, they come up on their own; there’s no argument with the message.

Clove-scented hyacinths may follow the crocus. Each head is crammed with florets, shaped like a miniature British Grenadier Guards’ busby. Flower colors may be white, pink, red, orange; or even yellow, blue or purple.

Daffodils are coming, too. Because there are, according to the American Daffodil Society, 12 broad categories of daffodil types, their season can stretch from late winter (unseasonably in Maine) throughout May.

But they’re another story for another day.