More Cherry Blossoms

I went back to revisit the little park with the old cherry blossom trees today, and I do think there were more flowers visible in the top branches today than when I was last there (four days ago). So probably no need to worry too much about the health of the trees as such.

 

One thing may still be a concern, though: Standing under these trees in spring is usually also connected with hearing the buzzing of a lot of bees and bumble bees. This year, I've so far not heard a single buzz... 

Daytime temperatures are still just around +7'C (44'F); and frost warnings issued for the nights. And the sky keeps changing very quickly. Yesterday the weather changed while I was dressing to go out, and when I got outside I was met by a snow-and-hail shower. (My walk was cut very short...) Today I managed to get out while the sun was shining, and as you can see from the photos, when I got to the park with the cherry trees (15 min walk or so), the sky was a lovely blue colour. But before I got back home (another 20-25 min), it was overcast and raining again!

I asked Copilot for a poem about the fickleness of spring:

In the dance of dawn, where dewdrops reign,
Spring whispers life, a transient train.
Blossoms bloom with a fleeting smile,
Gracing the earth, yet just for a while.

She waltzes in on a zephyr's wing,
A fickle queen, the heart of spring.
Sunshine and storm her crown adorn,
Today she's warmth, tomorrow she's torn.

Petals pirouette in the fickle air,
Spring's tender touch, both foul and fair.
A symphony of growth, then a silent fling,
Such is the caprice of the vernal king.

Yet in her fickleness, there lies a truth,
The cycle of life, in age and youth.
For in each ending, a beginning springs,
A constant change, the fickleness brings.

Yellow Crocuses

 

Yay Hooray! I spotted the first yellow crocuses today, in a sunny spot in an old cemetery. (Not the one where I usually walk, but an older one, situated a bit closer to the city centre.)

In the thawing heart of winter's chill,
Beneath the snow, a secret thrill.
A tender shoot, a splash of light,
Yellow crocuses bloom so bright.

They whisper tales of spring's return,
As icy grips of cold adjourn.
With petals spread like sunlit rays,
They end the white and wintry days.

A golden bloom with velvet touch,
Their beauty speaks, yet says not much.
For in their silence lies the power,
To herald spring's triumphant hour.

So let the yellow crocuses come,
And with their bloom, let spring succumb.
For they are nature's gentle spies,
Announcing winter's sweet demise.

 (Yes. It's another poem generated by Bing Copilot.)

Azure Skies

 

Woke up to the lawns outside covered by a thin layer of snow this morning - but that soon disappeared as the day turned out sunny. Good to see a clear blue sky reflected in the river again, after a grey and rainy week. 

I asked Bing Copilot for a positive poem about the colour blue, and got this:

**Azure Skies**

Beneath azure skies, dreams take flight,
A canvas of hope, bathed in pure light.
Ocean waves whisper secrets untold,
Bluebells dance, their petals unfold.

In twilight's embrace, stars softly gleam,
Bluebirds sing melodies, a celestial theme.
Blue, the hue of serenity and grace,
A tranquil refuge in life's bustling race.

So let us embrace this calming hue,
In every shade of cerulean and true.
For in blue's embrace, we find our way,
Guided by its gentle touch each day. 

Then I got curious to know more about AI's creative process... 
Did you know they actually write by hand?? ;-)

Whispers of Spring

 

Me: Copilot, write a short poem about looking for signs of spring in nature

Copilot: Certainly! Here’s a short poem about the arrival of spring:

Whispers of Spring

Amidst the thawing earth and sun-kissed breeze, I seek the subtle signs that spring unfurls: The crocus, brave and purple, pushing through, And daffodils that nod in golden swirls.

The trees, once bare, now wear a tender green, Their branches stretching toward the azure sky. A robin’s song, a hopeful melody, As buds emerge, their secrets held inside.

The air smells fresh, of rain and blooming life, And daylight lingers, chasing away the cold. In every dew-kissed petal, I discern The promise of renewal, ageless and bold.

So let us wander, eyes wide open wide, And find the magic hidden in each nook. For spring, with whispered secrets, softly calls, And bids us seek its signs in every brook. 🌸

Now I'm wondering if AI creates a new poem for everyone who asks, or if it reuses ones it has already created for someone else!

 

The photos above are my own, not created by AI. I've not yet seen any crocus or daffodils; but I did spot these "promising" azalea buds in the old cemetery today... (It will probably be a good while yet until they're actually in bloom, though.)