How Do the Trees Put on Their Robes of Green?

It is that time of year that causes me to push to finish outdoor projects before oppressive heat keeps me practically housebound. It is that time when daily patrols of the yard find me checking each of our special trees --- which one has buds, which one looks close to popping, which will wait some weeks more to show itself? This year the flush of spring came suddenly, from freeze to 80+ in a week. The red buds and dogwood were showing off their blooms in still frosty air when sudden  warmth threatened  to spoil the show with early leafing out. But blossoms held and still delight.  Nest building and flagrant courting goes on apace, as hundreds of birds sing, twitter, and squeak. Sitting on the porch, one imagines being in a giant aviary. The sound is truly amazing. Bluebirds squabble with chickadees over a new nest box. Flying squirrels have usurped an old nest box. Goldfinches turn from green to screaming yellow as their breeding time grows close. If only I could capture the birds on film!

Purple plum trees are resplendent with bloom this year, nearly every inch of branch and twig covered with a froth of pale pink clusters of flowers.

The river birch has donned its springtime filigreen. Just days ago the green appeared, changing the barren branches to a skycloth of lace. 

Heidi the tortoise has emerged from her long winter's nap. Though I have not seen her yet, she has been busily sweeping her front porch while I was not looking. All the winter leaves and detritus that littered the entrance to her den have been tossed away, and clean sand now makes a fan shaped doormat. 

The young, but stately tulip poplar, one of the last to leaf out, is yet to unfold its huge leaves. The ripening buds, turgid with promise, grow fatter by the day. And I watch and wait for the first burst of leaflets, for assurance that green is on its way, welcome shade will be there for the looooooong  Florida summer.

All around the perimeter of our little paradise the oaks are in their spring transition. Raining yellow leaves, they bare vistas briefly seen. Though never fully leafless, for just a week or so their tracery of branches allows a scarlet sunset view, or sight line to a distant pasture, but just as quickly the chartreuse hint of greening paints the boundaries, and we are once again enclosed.