wait. hey. spring. get back here. hey. yo. slow down. come on. wait up.
spent dandelion with morning dew
my daily walks with the dog get more interesting in the spring because i get to watch him follow his nose from one newly released smell to the next. after a winter when all but a few scents have been frozen and buried beneath the snow, our walks are suddenly smelly again, and watching jack interact with this new world is like watching a blind person suddenly able to see. if i were to do the same, following my limited human nose from one spring scent to another, i might simply find myself drifting along an endless path of crabapple trees in blossom.
crab apple blossoms
what is it about may? it is always ridiculously busy. is it because i still have school-age kids? is it because my husband is a tax preparer who pushes a bow wave of work into the second half of april? is it that minnesotans re-emerge from their winter slumber and overzealously plan every glorious minute? i don’t know. every year, steve and i tell each other, “we always have may.” and then may arrives, and then may disappears. and it turns out we didn’t have may after all. every single year. it’s may 4 today. i’m going to go potty now, and make a cup of coffee, and when i come back, it’s going to be june 1.
dried dinnerplate dahlia
one last tropical image while i unpack from our trip to northern california, where our daughter is working her way through freshman year. come to think of it, this protea may be more on topic than i originally thought. our girl is reaching out in all directions right now, from a pretty solid center. go girl. your momma loves you.
dried protea blossom
my son has reached that age where horror and suspense movies hold an unbearable fascination, but he knows he can’t quite handle most of them without ending the day in bed with mom and dad. on such nights, these little elm seed monsters, hairy, hinge-jawed, and sharp toothed, emerging soundlessly on flexible stalks from the ends of tender branches, seeking out 13 year old boy flesh, might very well feature among his dreams.
american elm seeds in spring