'Tis a season for biophilia #phenology

This morning we had our first ruby-throated hummingbird sighting of the year. A female stopped briefly by the feeder. Maybe it really is Spring. We still haven't seen any butterflies, but have noticed a few more dragonflies. Patience! Now!

We promised to try for better pictures of the unidentified tree down the road that bursts into beautiful blossoms about this time each year. Today we took some. Once again, any suggestions on what this may be would be appreciated. If we ever get a wet spell, we'll spend some time with our field guides and see what we can come up with. As we took the long way about, our county is reconstructing one of the most direct routes between us and many places we like to go, we saw several other small trees/saplings/bushes? starting to bloom. If you get a chance to wander some local country roads that aren't surrounded by row crops, we highly recommend the practice. The visible return of life is truly stunning. The returns of life to green leaves and pale flowers triggers an outpouring of biophilia.

the blossoming (wild plum) bush

Photo by J. Harrington

the blossoms on the (wild plum) bush

Photo by J. Harrington

close-up of (wild plum) blossoms

Photo by J. Harrington

Still to come. the local hedge of feral lilac bushes hasn't started to bloom, nor has the small cluster of prairie smoke developed stems and buds. We'll check again near week's end.

A trip to our local feed and grain store was triggered by the need to get replacements for the two feeders (sunflower seeds and hummingbird nectar) that appear to have been destroyed by a rogue whitetail deer. Because, this morning, we also noticed a male ruby-throated exploring one of the stained glass hangings we have in a study window, we added a window mounted hummingbird feeder. That should be out of the reach of both deer and bears, we hope!

From Blossoms

By Li-Young Lee

From blossoms comes

this brown paper bag of peaches

we bought from the boy

at the bend in the road where we turned toward   

signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,

from sweet fellowship in the bins,

comes nectar at the roadside, succulent

peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,

comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,

to carry within us an orchard, to eat

not only the skin, but the shade,

not only the sugar, but the days, to hold

the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into   

the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live

as if death were nowhere

in the background; from joy

to joy to joy, from wing to wing,

from blossom to blossom to

impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

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