Mom’s Flowers

First Roses

The rose that lives its little hour
Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.
~ William Cullen Bryant
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This one is sweetly fragrant!

More Buds

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
~ Anais Nin
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Ahhh…the promise of buds!

A Cold Day in April

Today was yet another cold, wet and miserably windy day as temperatures hovered in the low 40s F (5.5 – 6.5° C) and rain and sleet pelted down over the sodden earth. Prior commitments dragged me from the house in spite of the fact I had zero desire to be out and about in such weather. Once I was out there, I figured I might as well see what I could find with my camera. I saw a beautiful woodcock, but unfortunately the woodcock also saw me. I watched in dismay as it calmly walked under the weeping cedar tree and disappeared there before I could even get my camera ready to shoot. I spent 15 minutes stooped over, peering all around under the tree, but alas, my search turned up nothing.
I am absolutely certain that bird was sitting there only inches from me,
watching quietly as I got soaked to the bone trying to find it.
At least the flowers can’t run and hide.

A Sunday Scented with Hyacinths

This post is part of the Sunday Stroll Invitation Series

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If of thy mortal goods thou art bereft,
And from thy slender store two loaves alone to thee are left,
Sell one, and with the dole
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.

~ Moslih Eddin Saadi
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A stray on the lawn

Softest Pink

A bee heads in…

…and banks right for landing

“Om nom nom nom”

~
The fragrance and the colors are mind-boggling!
~

Shades

I never saw an ugly thing in my life:
for let the form of an object be what it may –
light, shade, and perspective will always make it beautiful.
~ John Constable

Trout Lilies

The Trout Lily
Erythronium americanum
is another of my favorite early Spring wildflowers.
These were growing amongst the Spring Beauties shown in the post below.

~ This first photo shows an emerging bud ~

Meet My Buds

Rays from the sunrise drew forth the buds
and stretched them into long stalks,
lifted up sap in noiseless streams, opened petals,
and sucked out scents in invisible jets and breathings.
~ Thomas Hardy