Reddish-brown the leaves for now
But darkly purple later.
Red wears a crown when leaves fall down
But the Crimson King’s is greater.
I had planned to post this back in May when the leaves had opened up on the tree and it possibly would have made more sense. But there are many things that didn’t go as planned this year. We’re all doing what we can.
I hope you are doing well where you are. Take care.
It’s the most pollen-y time of year. I’m looking forward to wearing my contacts again when the pine trees are finished celebrating spring.
Keep going, tender little leaves. Spring is just getting started, and it’s your time to grow big and strong. Feast on the warm sunshine and breathe in blue skies.
Who doesn’t love Bob Ross? He paints and teaches with such love that I can’t help but relax and fall into a happy little trance when I watch The Joy of Painting.
I saw this tiny tree on a walk yesterday and wanted to wish it good luck.
I hope you grow up strong and happy, little tree.
The flowering trees are beginning to open in my neighborhood. One of my favorite times of year.
This cherry tree is always one of the first to bloom. Except I’ve just been doing a little research, and it might not be a cherry tree after all. I think it’s actually a plum tree called, confusingly, a black cherry plum, or Prunus cerasifera ‘Nigra’. The photos on this tree nursery site seem to match up.
I read today that cherry trees always have green leaves, and the leaves on this tree are always a dark maroon. Maybe it’s not a cherry tree after all.
I have been trying to identify the neighborhood’s various flowering trees for a few years, but never with much luck or perseverance. It’s easy to call them all cherry blossoms, but I sometimes strive to be more accurate. There are two that I think are more likely crabapples, and now I think this might actually be a plum. It doesn’t really matter because they all bring me joy with their flowers. It’s just fun to have a few mysteries to solve each spring.
Just watching as Spring opens up all around me.
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I’m participating in the A to Z Challenge for the month of April. The idea is to post every day, except Sundays, and end up with one post for each letter of the alphabet. It’s a good challenge to help me to blog every day.
Spring is finally bringing some color back into the world.
It’s lovely.
These cherry trees (Prunus x incamp ‘Okame’ cherry) were not only nice to look at, but had a beautiful sound as well.
They were humming. Filled with bees.
As one of the first trees to open in this particular park, it was the place to be if you were a bee.
Unfortunately you can’t see them in the photos, but I’ll always remember their soothing sound.
The magnolia trees were the only other flowering trees that were ready to show off on this particular day.
The sign for this one below listed the name as Magnolia stellata ‘Centennial’ star magnolia
They had some pretty pink stripes on the back of each flower.
It’s so nice to have spring here again.
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I’m participating in the A to Z Challenge for the month of April. The idea is to post every day, except Sundays, and end up with one post for each letter of the alphabet. It’s a good challenge to help me to blog every day.
Are you there, Spring? It’s me, Cynthia.
I’m waiting…
This week we’re asked to share a photo and story that tells something about the state of mind we felt when taking the photo.
Mine comes from one evening last April, when I saw the setting sun around the corner of the building. At the top of the frame are branches from an ornamental cherry tree that was very close to blooming. This would be last round of tree blossoms outside, and I was looking forward to seeing one final brilliant display of pink petals.
My state of mind was that I was still happy that last year’s long winter was finally over, and that there were lovely trees and flowers and evening walks again.
My springtime friend, lovely ranunculus. Even your shadow was enticing. But not just to my camera and me, to the aphids as well.
I didn’t know it was happening until it was too late. There was no hope of undoing what had so swiftly taken place. Your second bud would never know the warm sun on its open face.
I looked at you, but I did not see. I gave you water but not what you really needed. I brought you home, and I let you down.
Now all that remains is a shadow of a memory.
Cynthia M Voss 