shades of spring
Apr. 20th, 2023 10:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marycatelliThe Easter magnolias are all covered with buds like balls, in shades of pink, ready to burst open into blooms.
The trees are all leafless and no flower shows, but the air is alive with the sound of chorusing birds.
A lone violet has its face downcast by the walkway.
A lone cardinal, perched in a pale and leafless tree and catching the sun, is astoundingly scarlet
On the wayside, most of the trees are a pale brown harmonizing sweetly with the pink of the cherries.
The median is filled with low brush in delicate green leaves and over them, leafless trees bar one lopsided, misshapen willow that is the same delicate green as the brush.
In the heat, all the flowering trees have flowered. Trees engulfed in white and pink stand here, there, and everywhere, sometimes dotted among trees that may be red with smaller flowers, or pale green with new leaves, or still bark from the winter. The tulip beds blaze, sometimes beside them, sometimes afar.
The lungwort puts forth lovely pink blossoms that ripen into blue as they open.
Tulips do not bud like other flowers. It looks like they do, with a close, green shape, but that's the petals, still unripe. They ripen before your eyes. Two turned mostly white, but their edges are two different pinks. One is mostly a purplish pink, and the other just touched with a peach pink. The bleeding heart, though not yet large, is already putting out its pink flowers in pure pink.
On the cranesbill, one lone pink flower blooms.
In the tree perches a grackle. It is catching the sun just right, and it is a different sort from those I have seen before. The head and neck indeed gleam iridescent blue, but the wings and back are neither the same blue, or a like green, nor the dingy off-black of its pigment, but an iridescent bronze.
A tree in white blossoms stands between two all but yellow with new leaves.
In the park, on the pond, a swan drifts, regally white. Near by, a rock rises above the waters, but has wet spots, rising above the rest of the stone, where turtles sun themselves.
Beneath the dark slate-blue clouds, the hillside is a patchwork of leafless brown, dark green pines, and trees in fresh, bright green.
The cliffs by the road in the forest often have flowering trees, their lopsided branches laden with pale blossoms where they try to reach out for sunlight into the road.
Thickets of trees in white blossom or harmonious green leaves -- and sometimes the last white petals among the tree where the wind and rain have not quite shaken them all free.
A sparrow scuttles along the ground in the garden, like a chipmunk, holding in its beak its treasure: a twig many times its length, but very thin.
The trees are all leafless and no flower shows, but the air is alive with the sound of chorusing birds.
A lone violet has its face downcast by the walkway.
A lone cardinal, perched in a pale and leafless tree and catching the sun, is astoundingly scarlet
On the wayside, most of the trees are a pale brown harmonizing sweetly with the pink of the cherries.
The median is filled with low brush in delicate green leaves and over them, leafless trees bar one lopsided, misshapen willow that is the same delicate green as the brush.
In the heat, all the flowering trees have flowered. Trees engulfed in white and pink stand here, there, and everywhere, sometimes dotted among trees that may be red with smaller flowers, or pale green with new leaves, or still bark from the winter. The tulip beds blaze, sometimes beside them, sometimes afar.
The lungwort puts forth lovely pink blossoms that ripen into blue as they open.
Tulips do not bud like other flowers. It looks like they do, with a close, green shape, but that's the petals, still unripe. They ripen before your eyes. Two turned mostly white, but their edges are two different pinks. One is mostly a purplish pink, and the other just touched with a peach pink. The bleeding heart, though not yet large, is already putting out its pink flowers in pure pink.
On the cranesbill, one lone pink flower blooms.
In the tree perches a grackle. It is catching the sun just right, and it is a different sort from those I have seen before. The head and neck indeed gleam iridescent blue, but the wings and back are neither the same blue, or a like green, nor the dingy off-black of its pigment, but an iridescent bronze.
A tree in white blossoms stands between two all but yellow with new leaves.
In the park, on the pond, a swan drifts, regally white. Near by, a rock rises above the waters, but has wet spots, rising above the rest of the stone, where turtles sun themselves.
Beneath the dark slate-blue clouds, the hillside is a patchwork of leafless brown, dark green pines, and trees in fresh, bright green.
The cliffs by the road in the forest often have flowering trees, their lopsided branches laden with pale blossoms where they try to reach out for sunlight into the road.
Thickets of trees in white blossom or harmonious green leaves -- and sometimes the last white petals among the tree where the wind and rain have not quite shaken them all free.
A sparrow scuttles along the ground in the garden, like a chipmunk, holding in its beak its treasure: a twig many times its length, but very thin.
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Date: 2023-04-21 10:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-04-21 11:07 pm (UTC)