If Spring Had a Color...then yellow, it must be

It's the end of April, and Spring has come at last. Not the false spring of February, or the teasing spring of March, but finally, the true Spring! I'm celebrating with an original poem inspired by that most springy of colors: yellow. All of the photos are ones that I took in my own backyard (with the exception of the forsythia and Carolina jasmine which I let slip past my camera lens this year—those are from the royalty-free Pixabay site, bless 'em.)

 Spring Yellow/Yellow Spring

by Kathryn Louise Wood

If Spring had a color,

then yellow, it must be.

Buttercups, and daffodils,

and Carolina jasmine,

forsythia, and dandelions,

and yellow powdered pollen.

It's as though the flowers,

 and their magical dust—

                       

 collected by the bees,

 and spread from bloom to bloom—

 encourage the young sun

  to linger, ever longer,

  until the old world dances

  in the golden youth of Spring.

Thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back now. (And Happy Spring!)

Kate

Enchanted April...that fanciful month

"Like Peaches and Cream" photo by the author, K L Wood

There was a lovely movie made back in 1991 by the title, Enchanted April, in which a disparate group of English women come together for an Italian holiday in the month of April. The film, based on the 1922 novel, The Enchanted April by British author, Elizabeth von Arnim, follows the four women as they experience life-changing and life-affirming transformations in a nearly magical way. 

"April Shower" photo by K L Wood

There’s something about this month, by turns gentle and tempestuous, that feels magical to me. It coaxes me to believe in the mystical, the ephemeral, the world just beyond our earthly sight. Granted, as my husband will attest, it doesn’t take a big push for me to delve head and heart-first into enchanted realms. 

But, in April, I see fairies winking among the cherry blossoms, their tiny chariots pulled by buzzing honeybees. I see good-natured gnomes peeking out from beneath their toadstool umbrellas in the gentle April rain. Even the ubiquitous greenish-yellow pollen coating anything left stationary for a few moments, becomes pixie dust in my eyes. (I know. That’s a stretch, especially for the red-nosed allergy-sufferers, but it’s the way I choose to view the world.)

Here is a glimpse into my current Work-In-Progress, Murmuration, a book that falls within the magical/mythical realism genre. This passage takes place in Scotland in the month of June, but a Highlands’ June is a North Carolina April.

“Silver feathers of mist curled around Sarah’s shoulders and caressed her face with its moist silk. High above, a full moon cast down its sterling light as she passed, barefoot and silent, through the luminous glow of the garden toward the high-hedged maze.

Somewhere in its deep heart, lay her future.”

I will close out this post with a poem by Lucy Maude Montgomery, the author of the beloved Anne of Green Gables book series. I can tell from this poem, written about 1904, that as Anne, herself, might say, Lucy and I must be kindred spirits.

An April Night

by Lucy Maud Montgomery

The moon comes up o'er the deeps of the woods,
And the long, low dingles that hide in the hills,
Where the ancient beeches are moist with buds
Over the pools and the whimpering rills;

And with her the mists, like dryads that creep
From their oaks, or the spirits of pine-hid springs,
Who hold, while the eyes of the world are asleep,
With the wind on the hills their gay revelings.

Down on the marshlands with flicker and glow
Wanders Will-o'-the-Wisp through the night,
Seeking for witch-gold lost long ago
By the glimmer of goblin lantern-light.

The night is a sorceress, dusk-eyed and dear,
Akin to all eerie and elfin things,
Who weaves about us in meadow and mere
The spell of a hundred vanished Springs.

"Toadstool" photo by K L Wood

Thanks for stopping by. Y’all come back, now!

Kate

March Forth!...in shades of yellow

"Mama's Daffodil" photo by KLWood

If the month of March were a color, it would surely be yellow. Fresh new flowers burst forth in buttery lemon shades to encourage the golden sun on its journey toward the vernal equinox and beyond. Mirroring the sun are daffodils, dandelions, forsythia, and my personal favorite—buttercups.

"Buttercup Cottage" photo by KLWood

When we first found our home here in Edenton, North Carolina, it was in the month of March, with yellow swaths of gently gleaming buttercups swaying in the soft breezes of the Albemarle Sound. We were both smitten by the charm of this little, two-story Victorian-era cottage,

"Buttercups" by Manfred Richter- Pixabay  

surrounded by those diminutive botanical dancers, and promptly named it “Buttercup Cottage.”

Emily Dickinson welcomed March in her poem “Dear March—Come in." Here is the 

first stanza for your Spring reading pleasure:

How glad I am -

"Forsythia" by  KIMDAEJEUNG- Pixabay

I hoped for you before -

Put down your Hat -

You must have walked -

How out of Breath you are -

Dear March, how are you, and the Rest -

Did you leave Nature well -

Oh March, Come right upstairs with me -

I have so much to tell -

So, my dear reader, slip on your 

yellow sweater, don your yellow 

cap, or if there's rain, pull on 

"Dandelion" by Holi Ho- Pixabay

your yellow slicker, and 

March Forth to welcome 

the Sun-King of Spring

and his court of dancing yellow

blossoms!

Thanks for stopping by...

y’all come back, now!
Kate

"At Our Buttercup Cottage" photo by author's mother, Oleta Wood

It's May!...finally

"Raindrops On Our May Blossoms" photo by KL Wood

Although the calendar promises that Spring begins in March each year, most of us residing in the northern hemisphere realize Spring does not comfortably and reliably breathe among us until sometime in the month of May. And now at long last, May, in all its soft beauty, has arrived. Even my daughter living way up in New York state near the Canadian border has some flowers blooming, now. And so, in celebration of sweet May and in the sighting of a migrating rose-breasted grosbeak, who stopped at our kitchen window bird feeder on his way north to my daughter, I am happy to share some photographs from our spring garden (and bird feeder) as well as a lovely poem by John Burroughs. 

"Migrating Rose Breasted Grosbeak with Resident Dove"
photo by author's husband, William Ahearn

Burroughs was an American naturalist and writer who counted among his friends the likes of poet-Walt Whitman, inventor-Thomas Edison, automobile pioneer-Henry Ford, naturalist-John Muir, and American president-Theodore Roosevelt. Born in Spring, April 3, 1837, and dying in Spring, March 29, 1921, this poem, extolling the beauty of spring birds and flowers, is a fitting tribute to both him and to the month of May he so lovingly portrayed.

"John Burroughs" photo via Wikipedia (public domain)

"Rose Breasted Grosbeak Passing Through" photo by KL Wood

In May

by John Burroughs (1837-1921)

When grosbeaks show a damask rose

Amid the cherry blossoms white,

And early robins’ nests disclose

To loving eyes a joyous sight;

When columbines like living coals

Are gleaming ‘gainst the lichened rock,

And at the foot of mossy boles

Are young anemones in flocks;

When ginger-root beneath twin leaves

Conceals its dusky floral bell,

And showy orchid shyly weaves

In humid nook its fragrant spell;

When dandelion’s coin of gold

"Our Yellow Iris" photo by KL Wood

Anew is minted on the lawn,

And apple trees their buds unfold,

While warblers storm the groves at dawn;

When such delights greet eye and ear,

Then strike thy tasks and come away:

It is the joy-month of the year,

And onward sweeps the tide of May.

When farmhouse doors stand open wide

To welcome in the balmy air,

When truant boys plunge in the tide,

And school-girls knots of violets wear;

When Grapevines crimson in the shoot,

Like fin of trout in meadow stream,

And morning brings the thrush’s flute

Where dappled lilies nod and dream;

When varied tints outline the trees,

Like figures sketched upon a screen,

And all the forest shows degrees

Of tawny red and yellow-green;

When purple finches sing and soar,

Then drop to perch on open wing,

With vernal gladness running o’er

"Our Clematis in May" photo by KL Wood

The feathered lyrist of the spring:

When joys like these salute the sense,

And bloom and perfume fill the day,

Then waiting long hath recompense,

And all the world is glad with May.

Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back, now! (And Happy May!)

Kate

Flowery Language...the secret code of flowers

Tansy
"Tanacetum vulgare - harilik soolikarohi Keilas2" by Ivar Leidus
 Own work. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 

President Theodore Roosevelt once famously proclaimed, “Speak softly and carry a big stick.” But if Teddy knew the language of flowers he might have said, “Speak softly and carry a big Tansy!” Tansy flowers may look fairly delicate and innocuous but for those in the know, they mean, “I declare war against you!” It seems there’s a whole vocabulary of all things floral that reached its height in Queen Victoria’s reign (1837-1901.) There is even a name for the study of flower-speak: Florography.

In my research I found many lists with contradictory meanings for the same flowers so if you decide to send a message with your bouquet, you might consider including a translation. Wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression! For example, some lists claim a Peony means “Happy Marriage” while others say it’s crying “Anger!” I must say, I found an inordinate amount of hostility associated with yellow flowers. Occasionally yellow-colored flowers are said to represent joy or chivalry but more often they’ve been associated with less pleasant qualities such as jealousy or falseness. Being a fan of that sunny hue I think it’s gotten a bum rap! The list I compiled, below, is taken mostly from meanings during the Victorian era. Have fun (and think twice before you send those flowers!)

Amaryllis: Pride

By Elb2000 at en.wikipedia [Public domain], from Wikimedia Commons

Azalea: First love 

Begonia: Caution (Red: Dark thoughts)

Bluebell: Constancy

Camellia: My destiny is in your hands 

Carnation (Pink): I’ll never forget you

Carnation (Yellow): Disdain

Dahlia (Red): Dignity and elegance

Daisy: Innocence

Edelweiss: Noble courage

Evening Primrose: Inconstancy

Forget-me-not: Forget me not (well, duh)

Freesia: Lasting friendship 

Gardenia: Refinement

Geranium (Scarlet): Comforting

Pansy
"Pansy Viola tricolor Flower 2448px"
 (c)2007 Derek Ramsey (Ram-Man)  Licensed under Creative Commons 

Honeysuckle: Sweetness of disposition

Hyacinth (Purple): Please forgive me

Iris: Message

Ivy: Fidelity

Jasmine (Madagascar): Happiness in marriage

Jonquil: Desire

Lilac: First emotions of love

Lily-of-the-valley: Return of happiness

Magnolia: Magnificence 

Myrtle: Home and Love

Narcissus: Self-love

Nasturtium: Patriotic

Orange Blossom: Your purity equals your loveliness

Orchid: Refined beauty

Pansy: Think of me

Petunia: Do not despair

Queen Anne’s Lace: Safe Haven

Quince: Temptation

Rose (Red): Love

Roses (Red and White Together): Unity

Stephanotis: Happiness in marriage

Tulips
"Tulip - floriade canberra" by John O'Neill -
Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike
3.0 via Wikimedia Commons - 

Sweet William: Gallantry

Tansy: I declare war against you

Tulip: Declaration of love

Verbena (White): Sensitivity

Violet: Modesty

Water Lily: Purity of heart

Wisteria: Welcome

Yarrow: Cure for a broken heart

Zinnia: I mourn your absence

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now! (and send flowers!)

Kate