The fat, yellow dog and I just had occasion to run up to the county road that snakes along the ridge top. I noticed as always this time of year that spring is in perpetual transition. Walking down to the vehicle, the lilacs are close to full bloom today.
I glance to the barn and see that all the peach blossoms are gone. I look across the garden and see that the wild plum tree is starting to fade. We had several wild plum trees along there until the ice storm of ’09. The redbud trees behind still have color.
I’m momentarily occupied inserting a fuse so that various things on the vehicle will work.
Up the drive we go, gaining elevation. Looking into the woods, I slow to a stop when I see specks of white to ascertain from a distance what the flowers belong to. I’m a bit alarmed at the number of the little thorny lime trees I see growing. I call them “lime trees” while the books call them “trifoliate orange.” It’s a citrus species from Korea and China gone wild in our sheltered hollow. I’ve written about them before. They produce a nice looking fruit similar to a lime that doesn’t seem good for much of anything besides maybe squeezing into a glass of summer lemonade or iced tea.
I like having a few around because they’re exotic and have been here much longer than I, but they shouldn’t get out of hand. For one thing, their thorns are not friendly. I know from experience that they can go quite deep into flesh. The photograph does not do them justice.
I do see some white flowers here and there that I did not notice yesterday. This is an example, under these two massive oaks that I think of as formidable sentries to the hollow.
The yellow one and I disembark for a closer look. It is as I expected, the dogwood blossom, the official harbinger of tourists to the Ozarks. Except this year, this year is different. The world is advertised as being in disarray yet these trees go about their business and take no notice. The older trees saw a much worse human virus a century ago when fifty million died, but they do not meddle in the affairs of these humans that come and go so quickly.