There's a point in infancy where babies seem to only grow in one direction: first they plump out horizontally, then they grow taller; sequentially, not simultaneously. At least mine did. Both of my girls looked briefly like Michelin tire babies before lengthening to reduce the number of their chins to single digits. (They're both grown and beautiful now, so they can't get too mad at me for that reference.)
In early spring, plants seem to display a similar sequential growth pattern. Up first, and then out. So for a few weeks, it appears that every plants is standing straight in salute to the warm weather. For example, all the hosta -- and we have lots all over the property -- is ramrod straight right now.
And the columbine, which has a moundy bottom, has sent aloft the spires that will turn into blossoms in another week.
Then there's the allium (a non-edible member of the garlic family) on the mound, reaching to the sky with what will turn into big puffballs. I hope. The allium is new this season so we'll see how it feels about its new home. (and yes, that's Mrph in the background, on alert for critters)
And then there are these... these... these... sigh. I have no idea what they are.
They are also new this season. I planted three stands of them last fall, but no matter how hard I concentrate, I can't remember what they are. Oh sure, I could look them up, or go through my receipts and figure it out. But it will be a lot more fun just to wait and see what they turn into. Circling back to the baby metaphor at the top, I've decided not to find out what I'm having, but instead I'll wait and be surprised.