My favorite part of spring is over now. I managed to capture a little piece of it before it passed, though, as you can see above. Thanks to the people who owned our house before we did (and also a bird who dabbled in gardening), we have several flowering trees in our yard, and their blooms delight me. There’s a deep vein of melancholy in my nature– surely a happy go-lucky child would not have chosen Eeyore, the dismal donkey, as her favorite fictional character– but it completely evaporates during those few days when the trees burst into flower. Every year it’s a surprise, somehow; one day there are just the leaves and the next there are blossoms everywhere, and I’ve forgotten how much I like them. I literally stop and smell the flowers as soon as I see them; perhaps the neighbors wonder why I’m standing in my yard with my head in a tree, but I don’t care. I can close my eyes right now and almost smell the sweet, sweet scent of these white blooms. The pink ones are perhaps prettier to look at, but don’t have as much fragrance, so I tend to admire those from a distance rather than burying my face in the petals.
Too soon, the blooms start to fade and the petals start to drift off the tree, falling in what I like to call spring snow. This process was hastened this year by the wind and rain storm we had over the weekend. Pink and white drifts formed at the edges of the grass and on the patio, looking like confetti left after a parade passes. I regretted not spending more time with the blooms when they were around, but at least there are the irises to look forward to.
Powered by WordPress