In the midst of Gray Winter's Cold ...Flowers!

It happens every year. Toward the end of January, I would spy in the patch of ground beneath two towering white pines, tiny white-tipped green shoots. Feeling a surge of happiness, I would cry excitedly to my husband, “I see the snowdrops! Spring is here!" He would look up from whatever he is doing and  smile. Spring, of course, is still several weeks away. No matter, the sight of them would make my heart sing. They signal my magic garden's awakening.

The snow drops would grow taller by the day as they inched their way through cold ground. Soon, I would be able to make out tightly-wrapped white buds. In full bloom, each plant is about three to four inches high and bears a small white flower flanked by a pair of narrow, light green leaves. Interestingly, the flowers droop, seemingly bowing to the ground. In a few winters, the snow drops actually bloomed amidst snow. Thy are truly a beautiful sight to behold.  

Snowdrops blooming in snow
Photo: SockFoon

Now, that was January. About a week or so into February, I would detect a delicate fragrance coming from the honeysuckle tree. The flower buds that had been slowly swelling had burst into bloom. At first, the bare-leaved tree shows just a scattering of tiny white and pink flowers. Before I know it, hundreds of flowers would cover the entire tree. Throughout its brief flowering season, bees would buzz about, taking in the nectar. I dearly love this tree. The delicacy of the flowers, arresting fragrance, and brief season inspired these "haiku" lines, titled "Ephemeality."

   ephemerality

honeysuckles bloom

scenting the air with fragrance

petals fall softly

chew sock foon

22 march, 2000

A honeysuckle flower
Photo: SockFoon

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What the hornets did

This was still the season where flying creatures were in abundance to pollinate plants. As a result, my sickle pear tree bore an abundance of fruits. Just as they were ready for harvest, hornets visited my yard. They pierced a hole in each pear! I could not bring myself to pick them for my husband and me and the neighbors; who knows what the hornets left behind. Shaken by wind and scampering squirrels, the rudely injured pears fell and covered the ground. They rotted and the ground was coated with a sugary substance. In time, the rotting pears and sugary substance disappeared into earth, leaving hardly a trace. The following spring the grass beneath the pear tree was yellowish instead of the usual green. Strange, the hornets have not come again. Flying creatures were scarce last year and there were few pears.      

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