jumping the gun

my mom has been in and out of the hospital. so a friend of hers sent a bouquet of spring bulbs. i said “mom, when this is spent, don’t throw it away. i want it.”  this is what she handed me today. it’s the perfect gift for her slightly weird daughter. these will be even prettier in a few weeks once they’ve dried, but i couldn’t wait. i figured we could all use a little shot of color to start the week.

debris from a bouquet of spring bulbs

scale is everything

these look like giant cactus flowers atop saguaro cactuses. or perhaps trees in dr. seuss’ thneedville. or palm trees lining rodeo drive. or the inspiration for the statue of liberty torch. matter of fact they look like just about anything except the tips of over-wintered echinacea stems. scale is everything. welcome to whoville.

coneflower in winter (Echinacea)

p.s. happy vernal equinox my friends. enjoy the equilibrium!

eaten away

i have felt like this leaf at times, over the last year. hollowed and faded and diminished. today is one of the most symbolically apt spring equinoxes of my life. everything feels new, or about to be new. i am ready.

over-wintered oak leaf skeleton

smell

i participated in an instagram live interview today, during which i was asked whether my gathering is entirely visual, or whether there is an element of smell involved. i had to admit that there is exactly zero smell involved in my gathering, and yet, now i am wondering what these crisp winter leaves smell like. do they give off the dry smell of a fall walk in the woods, or the musty smell of spring along the trail. i don’t know. but i’m going to be paying attention.

falling linden leaves

random order

i spend a lot of time poking pieces of nature, prodding them a millimeter or two in one direction or another, so that they look as if they have spilled into place utterly randomly. did i do that here? maybe i did. or maybe . . . i did.

wood duck feathers