The annual symphony of flowering is upon us! Here in the northwest, it starts with a single flash of life jumping out of the dark earth in late January, early February. It is the first snowdrop, or crocus, emerging like a butterfly from a cocoon. Our souls, slowed by the subdued palette and chill of winter, are instantaneously energized and delighted by that tiny shock of brand new-ness and color. And so it begins.
This spring, a friend told me a beautiful story about a tradition in his family. He grew up in eastern Canada where winters are extra long. Each year, sometime around March, his dad piled the family into the car and said "We're going to drive until we see a daffodil". And they did. They headed south until they spotted one.
That's pretty much what I did this spring too. Leaving the first week of March, in snow and ice, I set out on a long road trip. Arriving in California felt like going through the wardrobe door into Narnia. I pulled in just in time to catch the peach orchards in spectacular full bloom around Marysville.
Over the course of the next several weeks, on my way to see family and friends, I chased flowers around like a deliriously happy honeybee, collecting photographs as my pollen. I find the act of photographing flowers is a very beautiful way to spend time with them, like having a good conversation.
Now, in the peak of summer, the roadsides and fields here are completely alive and buzzing, like impressionist paintings, splashed with daisies, foxglove, wild roses, dandelions, tiny wildflowers, morning glory, and endlessly more. Words fail me when it comes to describing what it feels like to bask in the graciousness of even a single one of those blossoms.
With summer greetings, may you be enjoying the company of flowers in your world as well.
For now -Amy