In Search of Spring

More than 16 years ago, I planted an ornamental cherry in my front yard. Long before the dogwoods stir or the maples leaf out, this tree unfurls its soft pink blossoms and declares that winter is finished, whether winter agrees or not.

In the early days, I photographed the blossoms with a modest point-and-shoot camera, because that’s all I had. But after my photography epiphany came the “big camera”—and the experiments in snow, rain, fog and afternoon sun. Some springs I teetered on a ladder while chasing tight buds; others, I was flat on my belly, capturing the confetti of petals scattered across my brick walk. As my skills grew, I began waiting for the bees. Standing beneath the tree’s branches, I would feel the air thrum with the wingbeats of hundreds of bees.

The blossoms are dainty, yes, but brave—opening wide to a world still shrugging off its chill, offering sweetness to anything willing to hover and gather. CS