On the east coast, spring is popping out all over, despite some random frigid days and winds that knock blossoms off their stems. Foraged blossoms make for free flower arrangements in the form of ad hoc indoor ponds like the one photographer Maria Robledo devised.
Visiting one evening, we were stunned by the huge green vase that held a shallow pool of water into which she floated fallen blossoms. Lovely!
We’re going to borrow that good idea.
It seems the perfect accompaniment to this 4-line gem of a poem written by Su Tung-pāo over a thousand years ago:
Pear blossoms pale white, willows deep green ā
when willow fluff scatters, falling blossoms will fill the town.
Snowy boughs by the eastern palisade set me pondering ā
in a lifetime how many springs do we see?
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