Flower power

Flowering forsythia

If I named the crayons I would call this Smack-Upside-the-Head Yellow.

In November, the last autumn colors leached out of the landscape. The fire went out. Winter's palette was pallid. We lived in a ghost world of dirty dull grays and browns. And white, white, white.

Now, after five long months, color is back. Living color. Technicolor. I feel a little stunned by it. Mesmerized. Like I might drive off the road into a forsythia bush.

Here is a bouquet of beautiful blog flowers:

Trout lilies • quince • star magnolia • narcissus • tulip magnolia • tulips • crocus • assorted Mississippi flowers • a multitude of magnolias • azaleas in Brazil • daffodils • bruised magnolia • wisteria • wild hyacinths and a zebratail

The dog and I crashed around in the White's Lane woods this morning, like the large, unstealthy, non-woods-dwellers we are. Still, I saw quite close, crossing the path ahead of us, what I believe was a marten. (Or maybe a fisher.) It was long and slender, it's fur was a rich reddish brown. It was cat-like, raccoon-like, weasel-like.

The maybe-a-marten paused halfway across the path and we gazed for a long moment at one another. (The dog was off sniffing something and never saw it.) It had a bright, alert look – like this.

I remembered an essay by Annie Dillard, Living Like Weasels. She describes an encounter with a small sleek fierce wild animal emerging from under a rose bush four feet away...

Our eyes locked, and someone threw away the key.

Comments

[Terry Thornton]

Thanks Amy for the beautiful photo --- and for the link to Hill Country. Spring has indeed sprung!
TERRY

[Amy]

It's quite beautiful down your way, Terry.