Forsythia

  

We're enjoying warmer temperatures this week, around 16'C in the afternoons, and more and more colour is coming back into the surroundings at last... I didn't walk very far today, but stopped and snapped a couple of photos of Forsythia hedges now bursting into bloom here and there in my neighbourhood. (The yellow brick buildings in my immediate surroundings all look very similar - but there are different kinds of flowerbeds and hedges around them.) 

 

 

I have a forsythia branch in a vase at home, too - but that is a fake one, not stolen from one of the outdoor hedges... As some followers might remember by now, I have a number of different fake branches and flowers for this vase, which I vary with the seasons.

Forsythia flowers are produced in the early spring, before the leaves. The genus is named after William Forsyth (1737–1804), a Scottish botanist who was a royal head gardener and a founding member of the Royal Horticultural Society. (Wikipedia)

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.)

Bring on the Spring

There’s still winter outside (we’ve had a couple of sunny days, but the nights are still very cold). Indoors however, it is MY decision when spring begins… So in my kitchen, spring began yesterday. This means putting up my yellow curtains, spreading my lemon-and-oranges tablecloth, and buying a bouqet of tulips to celebrate.

The pattern on the tablecloth is designed by a Swedish artist whose work I like very much, Lena Linderholm.

You’ll probably be seeing a lot of these tulips… They were so expensive I have to make the most of them!