Everywhere, Flowers

And just like that, our world went from twigs and tiny buds to green leaves and colorful flowers, bursting out just about everywhere. I love this time of year--it just so happens to coincide with my birthday--when the trees are bursting with petals and beauty is forcing its way up through the earth wherever it can. This year, things are happening earlier than usual: by my grandfather's calculations, the tulips are 9 days ahead of where they were last year (my grandfather is an amazing gardener who grows many, many tulips each year and then hosts an outrageous "tulip party"), and, even though it's a bit unsettling, I am not complaining.

our house, front-side

We planted tulip bulbs in front of our fence last fall--which always seems like such a hopeful thing to do--and even though we knew that they would come up (or at least that they should come up), it's still a surprise every time I see them, standing proud and colorful, welcoming us home.


Even more surprising are the flowers we didn't know to expect: those that were long gone by the time we first toured the house in late July. There are several flowering trees on our property, and they're all blooming up a storm right now.


While all six of us have been enjoying and appreciating these new blossoms, Zeben is surely the most enchanted by this abundant and flower-full spring. In this way, again, he takes after my grandfather (they also share a love of birds and frogs), and it's hard not to find his flower obsession endearing, even when it brings out his stubborn temper. The other day we were walking to town (or rather, Lena and I were walking, and Luke, Jaz and Zeb were rolling), and I happened to snap this picture of Zeben, about to pick a flower from someone's garden:

Followed by this photo, taken after I explained that we can't just pick flowers from other people's gardens without asking permission first:

classic mad pose

There were tears followed by a refusal to continue onward until, finally, a compromise was found: we decided that picking flowers from trees and bushes on private property was allowed, just not from gardens. Happiness and purpose and forward motivation returned.

Lena, lifting Zeben up to the blossoms

Happiness is a tiny flower

Breathing in their sweet smell

I'm not really a flower person, per se. But I love color--oh so very much--and I love how the flowers are adding so many splashes of vibrant color to our neighborhood at this moment. And I love how this is when the flowers choose to show up, after the long, bleak winter, just when we need them the most. My favorites are the volunteers: those who grow all on their own, up out of the middle of the lawn, or in a crack between slabs of cement on the sidewalk; in places where we sometimes fail to see the potential for such random beauty. And while I know that their purpose on this Earth is simply to reproduce themselves, I can't help but think that there is an intended message here: a reminder that beauty is all around us, even where we least expect it, a plea for us all to take the time to notice, and appreciate, and smell the flowers.