Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Wednesday, March 31, 2004
I mentioned a couple of weeks ago how everything is starting to bloom, and right now is just about the peak for visual overload with the coming on of the dogwood blossoms. This morning I was driving slowly up North Chalkville Road, and was struck by the incredible sight of yellow jasmine growing up a power pole, and the huge clusters of lavender-colored wisteria up in the trees that have just had their bright green leaves bud out, and then the fuscia of scores of redbud trees, and finally the bright specks of white of the dogwoods peeking out through the deep woods.
I really like dogwoods the best, although I'm not quite sure why. The peach and pear and cherry trees put on a more showy sort of show, but they never seem to last long enough, and when they're all bloomed out, they just look like big white foam balls on sticks. The dogwoods come out slower, and last longer, and they don't hide their gnarled old branches, and are just more interesting to look at. They remind me of the Herbert Shuptrine painting called "The Patriarch."
Comments: Post a Comment
free hit counter
so what if they're mostly me!