This is the view from our "library" window, looking toward our east woods, and the field beyond:
We live at about the northern latitude limit where native Redbuds grow. In season, Mary and I like to drive the long way home after church in Ada, for another chance to capture this breath-taking view:
Redbuds begin to flower when they are 4-5 years old. They are bunched along the branches before the leaves emerge. Since they're in the Legume family, they resemble pea blossoms. Bees are the chief pollinators.
Returning to the native grove of Redbuds last Saturday morning, the air was slightly hazy. But looking straight up, the sky was clear...
Here, minute heart-shaped leaves are unfurling. Green chlorophyll still in their future. Moist, delicate; at most, only a few days old.
Spider silk gathers early sunlight;
a streaking thread of iridescence
pulsating along the filament
with each soft breath of morning air
While looking through the lens, I hear, but do not see:
- a Red-tailed Hawk - high overhead: a piercing, descending keeer-r-r
- a Red-bellied Woodpecker - up on the ridge: a rising, quavering kwirrr
- a Belted Kingfisher - clattering and rattling downriver
I walk upriver, descend the steep bank to the water, and find the distinctive tiered branches, laying in layers...
...overhanging the Grand River like a balcony of blossoms.
I take a seat in this amphitheater; absorbing with gratitude the sights, the sounds, the sensations.
A profound sense of peace flows over me. A sense of place. I am Blessed to be here.