I’m in a particular good patch of poems in my Wendell Berry book and had a difficult time picking one to share with you today. But this felt right:
At the woods’ edge, suddenly
the air around him was perfumed
with the scent of wild plum flowers.
The whitened trees were accompanied
by several redbuds also in bloom,
equally beautiful, and both
together more beautiful than either
alone. Nothing in the long winter
prepared him to imagine this, a moment
in a thousand years never old.
This Day: Collected & New Sabbath Poems, Wendell Berry
Here in New Hampshire, the fruit trees are full of blooms. And all of those early spring trees? Redwood, dogwood, crabapple – they are electric right now. This is my thirteenth spring in New Hampshire [whoa – how did that happen??] and I’m still not used to the sight of the first bright flowers that show up after a long winter.
And – as usual – Wendell Berry captured the moment for me.
Enjoy the rest of your Sunday!