common but not ordinary

Mullein has two things, in my mind, that make it a great STILL subject: It’s form, and it’s texture. But it has one attribute that makes it not-so-good a STILL subject: It’s size. These mulleins are over seven feet tall. If I stepped back to take in the whole plant, I loose all that beautiful texture. If I come in on the texture, the size and shape looses context. I keep trying though to find a happy medium. This may be the the closest I have gotten yet.

common mullein (Verbascum thapsus)

a hearty non-native

Rhododendrons are popular in Minnesota. They do well here. They are native to the Himalayan regions, which explains why they would thrive in our harsh northern climate. I find the the colors of these buds against the over-wintered leaves very pleasing.

The other day, Susan left a comment in response to the anxious energy I have been experiencing about this spring. She put into words exactly what I have been feeling, so I wanted to share it here:

“Speaking for myself, this year I feel anxious about what happens next. Normalcy? Excessive heat, rain, etc.? Another tree blown down in another rain storm? Why have there been bluebirds in Maine this winter? I think I want the next season to arrive just to assure me that there will be a next season.”

rhododendron with spring buds

to see a world in a tendril

Capturing all the details I can before leaf-out and everything disappears behind summer’s green blanket. William Blake saw the world in a grain of sand. I see it in tendrils.

To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour

—William Blake : Auguries of Innocence

wild grapevine tendril

if you love something, let it go

This redbud tree forgot to release its seeds this winter. According to wiki, it was suppose to drop it’s seeds in early winter. Seeing as how we didn’t have a winter this year, I guess I am not surprised to find them still on the branch. The entire tree was festooned with seedpods. It looked like an oversized hedgehog. It was quite lovely to see, especially this time of year before the new-leaf buds have opened and bare branches are still dominant. I am liking all the different shades of brown in this image. All my life I have had blonde hair, it makes wonder what it would have been like to be a brunette.

seedpods on an eastern redbud branch in late winter (Cercis canadensis L. var. canadensis)

why does it feel so slow?

I honestly do not know what I expect…buds one day and leaf-out the next? Why does spring feel so stingy? So slow to give it up?  Things are happening. As they should. In the right order. At their own pace. And yet I am feeling impatient. I prefer spring to summer, so why am feeling antsy, as if I want thing to hurry up. I should be wanting to linger here. To slow it down even more so I can savor it. We are such fickle animals. I will never understand humans.

(unidentified) early spring bud bursts