One of my favorite times to be alive is that magical, liminal moment when Winter releases its grip and Spring bursts into view.
The animal-furred Appalachian mountains take on a subtle rose color as countless tiny buds break out. For a few startling weeks, I’m in awe of nature’s unfolding genius, alert to many minute changes after the grey-time of winter.
During the darkest months of January and February, I watch for small, hardy things, the snowdrops or crocuses; tiny harbingers of Spring on frosty mornings. Where the week before there were only these brave, early creatures, now, suddenly – transformation is everywhere!
Daffodils on the March
March brings the lovely march of the daffodils! Daffodils are symbols of Spring, a smiling reminder that a warmer day is on the horizon. I love daffodils in all their forms; massed or singly splendid, planted along walkways like a charming invitation, or spread loosely through a meadow like a swath of material sunlight.
Daffodils smell of lemon, cream, or simply a faint sweetness. They also last long and beautifully in vases on a kitchen table or windowsill. Collect a huge bunch and bury your face in their joyful presence, or worship a single, perfect daffodil at the base of a sheltering tree on a morning walk. Daffodils will always reward a closer inspection.
Along with the triumph of daffodils come subtler auguries of Spring. The bleached color of winter gives way to a watercolor world of soft pinks, the sweetest, palest of greens, and creamy whites too, as the pear and cherry trees burst into bloom.
Magnolias Bloom in Asheville
Magnolias, happily abundant in the South, are powerful players on the stages of early spring. The pink-hued cups of the Tulip Magnolia are a flurry of swift, pink butterflies settling all at once upon a tree. The fringed white blossoms of the sweet-smelling Star Magnolia are as unbelievably beautiful as the constellations of nighttime.
Forsythia in Spring
Amidst this emergent and filagree landscape are pops of neon-yellow Forsythia, sometimes massed in swaths of hedgerow, like a splash of bright paint in a modernist artwork.
Forsythia is fascinating because at this time of the year it feels like an oblivious intruder at a pastel-toned tea party; on outlier, maybe an interloper, but a lively one! I’m always glad to see its brazen bright yellow beauty. Forsythia reminds me of the powerful, florid, eye-teasing colors nature will conjure up in the summer months ahead.
Exquisite Japanese Quince
The Japanese Quince, a stunningly beautiful shrub, is sprinkled with with rosy-red, blushing blossoms forming on bare branches; each poetically distinct in form, and worthy of a watercolor, as Japanese culture well knows.
This early Spring landscape, a tender reminder of change and renewal, is full of babies. Trees and shrubs transform into nurseries replete with buds, unfurling in rapid succession, babbling and gurgling with delight in the sharp spring sunshine.
What a moment to be alive, during a rush of rebirth, when nature’s palette presents itself against the pale sleep of winter. In a cold white sky, the skeletal edges of trees still scratch at the horizon, yet all the generative, generous action in the world is happening if you look close enough.
Fragrant Spring Beauties
In March the mountains are filled with scent, a perfume of fertility everywhere, from sweet Magnolias to honeyed Daphnes, Witchhazels, and Viburnums. Closer to the ground are wonderfully fragrant Hyacinths, fresh smelling Daffodils, and the tiniest of all, the subtly sweet Muscari or grape hyacinth.
A Fleeting Moment
Soon we’ll be swept into a parade of pink, ivory and rose-red dogwoods, startling fuchsia redbuds, and a dazzling array of mountain azaleas from shocking lipstick pink to gossamer white. All this sudden wild color, along with other remarkable beauties of late Spring, in turn auger in the bounty of Summer.
The specific and special Spring moment from late February into March is so fleeting, when the first colors and scents of spring overtake the pallid trail of winter; a vibrating upswell. Here, and only briefly, birth outshines death…those two truths always entwined in nature.
In this unique moment of growth, of stark contrast and release from our past, I’m just grateful to be alive. The first burst of Spring fills me with love for a brand new year.