Watching spring

Watching spring as an adult seems to me very like watching my children's childhood. Winters are endless, summers lag lazily on and on, and even autumm has a certain gradual quality. But spring, that's different. Now, I don't mean the long-wet-muddy part of spring, I mean the payoff part of spring, which we're just entering here in Rochester. But, like our children's childhood, it's there and gone in the blink of an eye, way before we're ready for it to be gone.

So, spring produces both joy and anxiety at the same time. I keep wanting to find various ways to capture the experience. See this magnolia tree in my front yard? It blooms for just six and a half days each year, but it's this glory that everyone remembers the other three-hundred-fifty-eight-and-a-half days. I snapped this photo on Monday, and already today the blooms are raining down. I want to march outside and say, "Put those petals right back on, Young Lady."