On April 30th I walked along the creek near our house, and below is what it looked like.
The last day in April, and it seemed like instead of hibernation, plant life had died a permanent death. Where was spring? Would I ever see color again?
A couple of days later, I zoomed in on just a dribble of yellow across the other side of the creek.
It was someone’s back yard, so I don’t know if they planted them or if a magic fairy waved a wand across the dry, gray dirt. But still, not much life was showing yet.
A couple more days passed and these dandi weeds popped up in our yard. There seems to be way more than usual this year.
Ten days from the date of my walk by the creek, on May 10th, I stepped out of my house with the dog for a walk and what did I see?
POOF! Sprawling color.
Vivid hues burst out of nowhere . . . .everywhere. How did it happen that everything was dead, and a couple days later . . . LIFE?
Literally, one day I took notice of little bits of green dotting my neighbor’s lilac bush. The very next day, majestic mauve blooms carpeted the entire plant, and their fresh perfume nearly bowled me over.
Would you believe how precious my boy, Max is (below)? He politely stopped and waited patiently for dozens of clicks with my camera.
Anneli, is that a dogwood bush behind Max? If not, what kind is it? The fragrance is sweet, like jasmine, but they don’t look like jasmine. At least not like the jasmine that I used to see growing in Florida.
Speaking of Florida, I posted a long time ago that living there reminded me of the movie Pleasantville. Except, the weather was not as pleasant in Florida as in the movie. The similarity was that everything always stayed the same. Aside from an occasional home-wrecking hurricane, life was as dull as black and white.
I have to say that living in Florida for so long opened my eyes to magic! After moving back home to the Midwest, I now see the majesty of the world we live in. Within ten days, my environment went from black and white to full on color.
It’s not only spring that’s so magical either.
It’s rustic foliage during the lyrical descent into hibernation.
and flittering white pixie dust.
The changes are like a fantasy novel.
If you haven’t seen that movie, Pleasantville, check out the trailer.
The meaning of that movie is beautiful to me, especially after living in black and white for two and a half decades, then coming home to full color.
It’s real life . . . MAGIC.