PINK SNOW

On a morning walk last week, we took the long way round, through neighborhoods seldom traveled save for this time of year.    We make special trips for the splendor of the neighbors’ wonderful redbuds, spreading their rosy glory in the morning light.

Another, more modestly pale cousin down the block:

The Slezaks’ forsythia (forever Yellow-Bell to me, for that’s all I knew as a child) was in splendid array---golden and gleaming like fresh-polished armor:

And ahead lay the prize:  What is called a Tulip Tree in the South, despite our great pride in our own Magnolias.    Ours were always a deeper rose, bordering on mauvish shades, and indeed did look like a great flock of tulips had settled onto the limbs like vibrant tropical birds.   

We looked way down the block, looked again, and saw what appeared to be a great blanket of snowfall, carpeting the lawn and walk and verge for quite some space.   As we approached, we realized that the entire area was covered in a drift of the pale-throated petals, with more swirling down as we watched.

We hesitated, stepped out into the street so as not to tread on such a lavish cover---we half-expected some Fairy Bride to appear with her cortege and walk this momentary, magnificent aisle to her Prince.    

I tried to capture some of the petals as they fell, but neither my skills nor my camera can make me the F-Stop Fitzgerald that Chris is, so my own pictures do not do any image justice.  As we rounded the blocks and turned for home, we DID spy a small Fairy Portal, still sealed and concealed, for the day was young---even the firefly and bumbletaxi hitching post out front is deserted and forlorn.

And another tree farther on revealed the entrance to a Hoblet’s Nest.   They’re not quite so particular about their accommodations as fairies, have no occupations to speak of, and sleep in very late.  

We did not see one today, so we came home and made our own.   He bears a striking resemblance to Fifi the Flower-Tot's friend Sluggsy, only way more flashy---maybe he's ready for Mardi Gras.

Sweetpea kept calling the petals feathers as they fell, and we brought home a few for souvenirs.   We pressed them between paper towels in a heavy book, and today when I looked, they've taken on the tone and the shine of burnished leather.

We dyed eggs, made strawberry cupcakes (decorated by Sweetpea herself, and featuring an entire jar of sprinkles, mostly lavished upon her own), arranged a new bunny on the table, and awaited our Family, for we had stories to tell.    Bunny seems to be inclined to recline, no matter what I do---I guess she's not rested yet from the all the to-do and flurry of late.   I know just how she feels.

I'm linking today to Beverly's Pink Saturday.