Through most of March and the first two weeks of April, Winter was a cold grey dam holding the next season in check; on April 19th or so, the dam broke and we’ve been in a glorious flood of summer since then. One of these pictures is remarkable.
As noted earlier, the Magnolia blossoms have been out for weeks now, naked but closed; they’ve lost petals but are mostly still there and are now opening even as their pink bleaches to white; the trilliums below fade inversely from white to pink. But it’s late in magnolia-blooming season, and the petals fall heavily now among the forget-me-nots.
There’s this one picture, of some sunlit rhododendrons, that I’ve been staring at and staring at:
Pretty enough blossoms, wouldn’t you say? But enlarge it, or if you have a really big screen check out this 3072x2304-pixel version. The flowers are diseased, blemished, tattered; the one on the top right is gaily flaunting its sex organs because the petals on this side are mostly eaten away.
I can think of a basket-full of metaphors and analogies, there’s a parable here struggling to get out; but why not let the flowers speak for themselves?
