Spring Crush

The spring is my favorite season, the open possibility, the re-generation of life spelled out in millions of plants and trees. It is the season of green, deep, passionate green. Spring is for romantics, something I have always been. The sensuality of spring holds some of my favorite memories. I have lived through many springs in all parts of the beautiful United States. I want to take a moment to examine the spring of Oklahoma and how it looks up against the backdrop of growing up in Connecticut, my northwest home and plant education and my more recent central Texas life. I am sentimental this time of year for all the places I have lived and miss elements of the spring in each place. 

In Connecticut it was all about the crocus. The elusive lady friend peeking up in grassy patches marking the end of the freezes. The ones with purple and white stripes were my favorites. I love their little pointy striped leaves and the sweet surprise of happening upon them in bunches across wet tracks of city parks. The cherry blossoms lining Wooster square were another New Haven favorite. As a teenager I walked through the park with a camera in hand taking pictures of friends covered in petals laughing with flowers in our hair as we witnessed the beauty of a hundred pink and white blooming trees.  

In the Northwest this season was marked with love, the ending of the dreary season and the possibility of warmth, shedding the under layers and being awe struck underneath blooming plum trees. This was the season of pretending you are not cold when you leave your jacket at home on a hopeful sunny afternoon turned stormy evening. Then waiting at a bus stop stomping your feet to stay warm and shivering through spring! The season of flirty smiles, longer evenings and enchanted bike rides. My friends and I always seemed to go on more dates in the Spring. It was time to start noticing people after the long, wet winter. Clumps of violets bloomed under oak trees and trillium would pop up under cedars as delicate and magical as a fairy. I traveled north to the Skagit valley to immerse in the color of the tulip fields. Thousands of varieties maybe only ever seen before in Holland to the back drop of huge, blue mountains and deep white clouds. I never had as much love for a cultivated plant as when I saw the brilliance of a field of red tulips. 

 In Texas spring is wild flower season, I think it may be the prettiest spring I have ever experienced. The weather warms up to sundress standards and there you are experiencing sunshine and a million varieties of wild plants. Fields of flowers grow on the side of the highways; purple, orange and deep black cones dot every field and lot. The trees come back in full force and electric green blankets the earth. And blue bonnets, blue bonnets, and blue bonnets! Warm and happy you skip around to all the various out door music experiences Austin has to offer. We always took portraits of our family in the flowers. Is there anything so primal as a wild flower? I am convinced the essence of passionate nature lies in the throat of crimson clover. In our yard after a good rain the rain lilies would peek up their heads. A sister to trillium in the northwest these plants are like congratulations for making it through a flash flood, a little white angel of hope in our yard.

In Tulsa it is all about the azaleas. It seems every one here thought it was a marvelous idea to plant this bush in their yard the cumulative affect is the most radiant extreme hedges of color everywhere you look for at least a month. You get so much return with these bushes I am surprised I have not noticed them before living in Tulsa. The bush is filled with blossoms in the colors of white, fuchsia, baby pink, orange, deep red and yellow.  They are like the little sisters of rhododendron, all show and punch. Another plant this town does well is dogwood trees. I have never truly appreciated the dogwood tree till moving here. The elegance of this tree is regal. It comes in white or pink and the underside makes the most perfect cookie cutter shape. The majestic red bud of this region is also a local favorite. Tiny pink blossoms grow up the trunks and branches of the tree and bring a sweet dark pink beginning to the season.

Spring is in my lungs from all the pollen, my back from all the yard work and my heart from all the love of the cultivated and wild plants of this land.