The lilacs are blooming!
It seems to early, but we had a mild winter.
I want time to stop. With the cherry tree blossoms just about to drop and the lilacs just opening, this phase of spring sings perfection.
In an American literature course a million years ago we read poetry. When we analyzed Whitman’s “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d,” we discussed the theme of grief and considered the pastoral elements in the poem.
What about the lilacs?
“Have you ever smelled lilacs?” Dr. Chianese, our professor, asked us.
Most of us had not. We were Los Angeles types moved by scent of jasmine and orange blossoms. We had no source of reference.
I now understand Dr. Chianese’s question, for the scent of a lilac is truly exquisite, ephemeral, and unique. The short space of time when Whitman contemplated the death of President Lincoln, and I rejoice in the rebirth of the garden.
I love this blossom time of year.
I don’t remember a time when the daffodils have bloomed this early, yet they are are blooming now on Orcas.
In honor of my favorite season, here’s a poem I wrote a couple of years ago.
is when the muddy yard turns from the snap of winter
Green fingers push through, reaching with fat thumbs
of promised golden blossom.
How does the green know?
Like actors waiting in the wing for the cue
of sunlight cast on mud
the volume of birdsong crescendo
the fingers open
cups to hold
the first sleepy bees of the year.
REMINDERS about WEEKLY POEMS: If you decide to use my poem somewhere, please let me know, credit the author, and link it back to my website. Thank you!
We interrupt this blog to announce the arrival of my favorite season.
Clematis ready to burst into bloom
And the beautiful pink flowering currant shrubs (which are clearly tree sized).
Yes, once again, I’ll announce the news:
SPRING IS MY FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR!
Who can resist all the blooming flowers, singing birds, croaking frogs, warming days . . .
I’ve been busy with revisions, for I have decided ONCE AGAIN my manuscript needs quite a bit of work.
I’m also working on something big, but I cannot discuss it now. Let’s just say it has something to do with sanity and writing (yes, the two do go together).
I’ll leave you with an image of spring.
Spring arrived this week.
I took these photos on Monday:
A Lonely Snowdrop
On Tuesday I woke up to find . . .
Fortunately, the snow left quickly.
I’m waiting now for some sunshine.
Since the sun has been out, and I see signs of daffodils pushing up through the soil, I will go ahead and call it spring. I’m good at creating my own reality.
On a walk on Friday, my husband and I saw trumpeter swans on Cascade Lake.
Such a beautiful morning . . .
As the sun hit the rocks and the sides of trees, steam rose up and slowly evaporated.
I feel very fortunate to live on such a beautiful island.
This week marks my tenth anniversary of island life.
Sometimes this little rock feels crazy and claustrophobic.
But most of the time this little world feels as vast as the universe.
I wish you a beautiful early spring.
>I had a great weekend at the SCWBI Western Washington Conference. I hope to blog about this soon. For now, I’m busy editing.
Outside the plum tree is in blossom, and the garden calls to me.