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
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the blossoms on the (wild plum) bush
Photo by J. Harrington
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close-up of (wild plum) blossoms
Photo by J. Harrington
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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 comesthis brown paper bag of peacheswe bought from the boyat the bend in the road where we turned towardsigns painted Peaches.From laden boughs, from hands,from sweet fellowship in the bins,comes nectar at the roadside, succulentpeaches 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 eatnot only the skin, but the shade,not only the sugar, but the days, to holdthe fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite intothe round jubilance of peach.There are days we liveas if death were nowherein the background; from joyto joy to joy, from wing to wing,from blossom to blossom toimpossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
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