Abeyance

Last month, during a freakish stint of unseasonably warm weather, our neighborhood maples began to unfurl leaves more than two weeks ahead of last year. Then, the weather cooled, and the leaves simply stopped unfolding.

It seems strange to see something sprout, spread, and then stop, its eventual development held in abeyance. Do leaves grow tired of being bound within buds? Do they yearn to strive and stretch? If I were a leaf or flower, I think I’d grow impatient during these brilliantly bright but brisk days: days when the sunlight says Spring but the wind says Winter, or at least Wait. Having waited all winter to unfold and unfurl, how can newborn leaves find the patience to pause?

 

Highlights

A dusting of snow clings to leaves and highlights hidden hollows. Even the bellies of juncos and chickadees look whiter.

This is my day ten contribution to this month’s River of Stones.

 

Browning

 

Harvest

 

Springs eternal

Even as most leaves are changing and falling, some shrubs are sending out fresh green leaves as if it were spring.

 

Withering

 

Off-season

 

Then and now

Year after year, I can’t resist photographing one of this year’s leaves fallen next to a sidewalk imprint from an autumn gone by.

 

Food chain

Less than a month after their emergence, tender young maple leaves are already feeding the insects which feed the songbirds which feed the hawks. Every year, the wheel continues to turn.

 

Risen indeed

It’s easy to believe in resurrection on a warm and sunny day when even the trees are bursting into flower.

Saturday was gray and drizzly, with temperatures in the 40s; today was a mix of sun and clouds, with temperatures in the 70s. On a morning dog-walk and a lunchtime walk with J, I couldn’t stop snapping photo after photo of tree blossoms, unfolding leaves, swelling buds, and anything green or flowering. After a long and snowy winter, it’s a vegetative resurrection that’s long overdue.

Click here for a photo-set of Easter flowers, buds, and leaves. Enjoy!