Like an orchestra warming up, the exquisite period of spring is just about to lift the baton for the opening crescendo. Nature gifts us with a few achingly beautiful days every year: a December snowfall, a flutter of yellow leaves in crisp November. But, for me, the most breathtaking time of the year comes in a few days in March when spring quietly tells you it’s on its way.
Close your eyes and smell deeply of a Texas spring. It comforts you with the humid promise of drenching rains and crackling thunderstorms. The sweet grape Kool-Aid perfume of Texas Mountain Laurel drifts by. Black compost, filled with earthiness, crumbles in your hand.
Listen for signs of a Texas spring. The red cardinal sits up on top of the bare branches of a cedar elm, sings for a mate. The mud from today’s rain sucks at your shoes. The white wing dove coos.
Finally, look for a Texas spring. Not in shoulder to shoulder tulip blooms. Rather, one can find spring in native redbuds bursting out in vibrant pink branches in a field of deciduous brown. Or in tall spiderwort thrusting their hot pink flowers high above a mass of foliage. Or in the Mexican plum’s first white blooms, pretty as the lace of a bride’s dress.
A Texas spring. Savor it this year.
Thank you, Steven Schartzman, for use of his pictures from the blog: Portraits of a Wildflower