(A poem in today’s Writer’s Almanac inspired me to go out into this chilly raw first day of April in search of tender green leaves. Here’s what I brought back — and healthier for the outing — to companion Linda Pastan‘s wonderfully optimistic tribute to this budding season.)
April
A whole new freshman class
of leaves has arrived
on the dark twisted branches
we call our woods, turning
green now—color of
anticipation. In my 76th year,
I know what time and weather
will do to every leaf.
But the camellia swells
to ivory at the window,
and the bleeding heart bleeds
only beauty.
“April” by Linda Pastan, from Traveling Light. © W.W. Norton & Co., 2011.
Touch2Touch 
Lovely photo of something that has not yet appeared in my world, and a wonderful poem to accompany it!
LikeLike
Oh my, you are still mentioning snow on your blog???????
* shiver *
LikeLike
This bleeds beautifully
LikeLike
Well, thank you.
I guess —-
The layout, not the sap???
😆
LikeLike
What a fantastic poem – and a wonderful image to accompany and support it.
LikeLike
Thank you kindly!
LikeLike
And the bleeding heart bleeds only beauty. I so love that. Thanks for bringing it to my attention, T2T. I try to cover all the bases/blogs but there’s never enough time. Hopefully, with retirement in June, I’ll get to everything that brings me joy. You’re blog is one of those things that can’t wait til June. 🙂
LikeLike
I’m glad you’re on board right now — you’re the kind of appreciative reader that every blogger hopes for! (As a blogger, you know exactly what I mean.)
With retirement, Gemma, you may well find you’re busier than ever (though perhaps with more fun things than before) —
LikeLike
Hi,
Beautiful new growth, is always great to see, and a very nice poem as well. 🙂
LikeLike
I really loved that poem, it seemed just PERFECT.
It makes me happy to share it with everyone —
LikeLike
I’ve been eyeballing the buds in this area; too. After unseasonably warm weather, the temperature dropped; making me anxious for the tender buds.
Also, waiting for the cherry blossoms has felt like watching (and waiting) for a pot of water to boil.
Fortunately, this morning the Brooklyn Botanical posted an update with happy news. The trees have shown significant advancement, despite the recent brisk weather. I’m planning a visit to the garden later this week. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for good photo–ops.
LikeLike
Oh, yes! I’m crossing my fingers for you too, anticipating the wondrous cherry blossoms you’ll harvest for us all! A lot, please.
LikeLike
I’m so glad that you are getting healthier T2T. Gorgeous photo… love the depth of field. The poem, “April” by Linda Pastan, is the perfect accompaniment.
LikeLike
I’m struggling to master depth of field as well as I can with a digital camera — and this time I thought I managed it reasonably well.
And I was glad — because I really loved that poem, and wanted to do it justice.
Thanks for coming by, Theresa.
LikeLike
To know what time and weather can do and still be willing to look for beauty is a worthwhile life view.
LikeLike
That’s a realistic optimism, and amazingly rare. I found it inspiring.
LikeLike
A beautiful post! Loved the poem and the picture to go with it.
I found the first crocus on the same date as the two previous years.
LikeLike
The crocus has an iCal —
😉
LikeLike
MacCrocus
LikeLike
😆
LikeLike
lovely.
LikeLike
Thank you!
🙂
LikeLike
FABULOUS photo to accompany such a thought-full poem!
LikeLike
For once I didn’t turn to the archives. The poem was so fresh and surprising it sent me out with my camera to search for an analogue!
LikeLike