Spring

It’s that magical time of year when the long, slow curve in Little River is a haze of green as the trees on each side flaunt their new leaves. Spring leaves have a brilliance that is lost by summer, and these trees also lose their leaves in winter, so it’s a delight to watch them bud and then burst forth in all their verdant glory as the year progresses. There are banks of calla lilies unfurling their white blooms under the trees in the spring, like out of season snow.

These days, it’s light enough in the mornings for me to see the leaves on my way to work, which is a small pleasure in and of itself. Mornings are glorious this time of year, in sunlight:

and in fog:

It’s also rhododendron time, when the woods are frilled with pink:

Arriving home last week, i noticed that there are wild irises scattered among the ferns beside my house:

There is beauty everywhere this time of year.

A YEAR AGO: I found the beautiful house where I now live. I still can’t believe I live in this lovely place.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Dogs and cats. Cats and dogs. Past and present. Present and past.

TEN YEARS AGO: The mystery of the window boxes in the night.

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