While the “flowering” trees in the wild offer little trauma as they do their Spring thing, our domestic trees can be quite nerve-wracking. Asking real natives of the area what they are will get you a plethora of common names that Google can’t even sort out. Many of them are Amelanchier, and a lot are varieties of cherry. I have given up on trying to identify the range of whiteish to pinkish blooms during April and early May as there are so many of them. I say Amelanchier because there are so many common names for these trees that one would not suffice: Shadblow, Shadbush, Juneberry, Serviceberry to mention a few. The real show in the wild starts when the Amelanchier and various cherries start blooming at the edges of the forest and sides of the hills. The Harry Lauder’s Walking stick in my garden sports cute catkins for quite a while which I find very entertaining. I love the way that the catkins of the birches, aspens dangle and jiggle in the breeze. I have a black pussy willow that is so cool, but the deer go after it like I go after peanut butter and chocolate it is always so sad. It is always surprising how the catkins of the willows trick me into wondering what is blooming white. I have come to particularly relish the blooms of the red maples followed by the sugar maples. The older I get the more I have come to appreciate watching the mountains go through their slow subtle metamorphosis from the slight pinky glow of the first awakening to the full-blown green you are probably seeing at this reading. Spring is always exciting, brimming with anticipation, teasing us with snow drops and Spring ephemerals leading us on.
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