Spring is arriving in the Adirondacks too. It is slower, colder, perhaps more reserved for now. This morning I heard a poem on the radio about a sweep of hundreds, maybe thousands, of daffodils by water. What a gorgeous spectacle that must be! But here, I’ll take my spring wonders in smaller scales. The beautiful reds of over-wintered pitcher plants and sphagnum moss. The surprising purple on the scales of a balsam fir cone, recently disassembled by a red squirrel for the rich seeds hidden there. And (above) the unfolding leaves of Hobblebush, a wild and native viburnum that has surely one of the most wonderful flowers to be seen in the May woods up here.
Lovely signs of spring and also that you were listening to poetry. It's national poetry month and it goes so well with springtime.
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