Saturday, June 1, 2013

Like Snowfall in June

What a spectacular last few days it's been here on the river! My husband and I saw our first bald eagle of the year while kayaking a few evenings ago. We were having a conversation. He made a statement about our relationship to nature, and, as if on cue, a bald eagle flew out the trees, circled right above us, and flew back into the trees. It was quite intense. It was one of those moments when I was glad not to have a camera with me because I would have spent the whole time fiddling with it rather than being fully present to what was happening. It was a moment that demanded presence. 

Something else has been making its presence known this week: the black locust trees lining our yard and towering high above our house. We can see our yard from half a mile up the river because it's where all the black locust trees are - a whitish patch amidst an otherwise green landscape.

For some reason, I've never really noticed the black locusts before. Perhaps it's because this is a year of copious bloom. At first glance, the white-blossomed trees looked like a snow-covered forest. The sight stopped me in my tracks, begging for a closer look.

I have been enjoying some delicious moments this week standing in the back yard under the black locusts inhaling the divine, jasmine-like fragrance they send through the air and watching the white blossoms flurry silently to the ground just like snow. 

They have landed all over the yard

...and the river.

After learning that the blossoms are edible (apparently with a flavor similar to vanilla), I've even turned my face skyward and opened my mouth, hoping to catch one on my tongue.  

But that hasn't happened yet.

Yes, today I am fascinated by the black locusts. It seems I'm constantly falling in love with something new that has caught my attention in the natural world. How amazing to suddenly take notice of a tree, plant, or wildlife species that I'd never really been aware of before. It's as if the thing comes out of hiding and reveals itself, announcing itself to the pollinators or whatever other life forms it depends on for survival and/or propagation.

Can you see the busy bee? (Click to enlarge.)

 Then I take notice, become astonished, and follow its changes throughout the year it steps back after a few brief moments of splendor and allows the next thing to astonish anyone who takes time to notice.

And so, the Spring parade continues!

© Susan Meyer and River Bliss, 2012-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material, including all photos, without express and written permission from this blog’s author/owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Susan Meyer and River Bliss ( with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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