The Barrel of Buds

Like a train barreling down the tracks, buds have begun not just to emerge, but to dominate the wintry landscape. I don’t need a calendar to tell me that spring has arrived. It is everywhere and all at once. It is like a discovery of color, like gifts that won’t all fit beneath the Christmas tree and have to be stacked up and spread beyond its borders.

The forsythia in my neighbor’s yard is one of the first plants to emerge. I observe the way in which it holds onto drops of water after a long spring rain. She welcomes me to cut its branches to adorn my dining table. It is extravagant and no more lovely decoration can be had.

I take my phone on walks and stop to take photos along the way. My English Lab, Ivy, is not as impressed with the tulip magnolia as I am. Not even its pink and white blossoms keep her from finding more enticing things on the ground.

I sit in the sun on my back patio, starting a book about moss. I share the space with house sparrows and goldfinches who flap their wings in an effort to go to and leave from my backyard feeders. I find it a privilege to have them nearby. No matter how many photos I take, I can’t capture the immensity of the tulip poplar and the buds that burgeon against the blue sky. I hear the airplanes overhead, heading west out of Philadelphia International Airport.

I get up to observe what else is awakening on my property. The tall bush with the feathery white flowers reaches all the way to my loft bedroom. I enjoy seeing it from the vantage point of the window. From the ground, I am able to capture the movement of its petals in the breeze. Each year, I wonder at its name. Last year, one of my neighbors took a photo and looked it up on an app. I wish I’d written down the name.

The daffodils have opened into a welcoming bouquet near the front steps. That along with the dog flag given to me by my daughter, tells a lot about what matters here.

Every stage of the red bud is magnificent. The tree is covered with emerging buds, still dark in color as they prepare for their full awakening. My desk is on the other side of the window looking out upon it. I just watched a squirrel dig up a hidden nut, climb the tree and enjoy his meal in the comfort of its branches.

Even the Senecio and Calathea enjoy the view. I wonder, by the way the branches reach, if they would rather be outdoors. I feel that way myself, sometimes.