“the white way of delight”

who can tell me what that’s from without looking it up?  tell me in the comments!  i should give away a prize or something…but i don’t have anything to give away, so you’ll just get to feel a part of the special club that, you know, gets it.

i’m surfacing from my haze of thesis-writing because i just cannot resist an outpouring of mushy prose about the flowers.  tonight as i walked out of the T station the scent of crabapple blossoms hit my nose and i almost swooned.  to me that scent epitomizes spring.  where i grew up we had six gorgeous crabapple trees that had been left when the land was cleared of brush, so they dotted a small field.  the grass would turn bright green, and the trees would leaf out, and then the flowers would pop out pale pink from little red buds.  the contrast between the green leaves, the red/pink buds, and the pink/white flowers is one of the most beautiful things in the world.  and unlike the unsubtle bradford pear, or even the lovely cherry, crabapples are fully leafed when they bloom, so each perfect flower is set in a backdrop of green.  also, on top of being beautiful, they also smell delightful.  another thing they have over the pear and the cherry…

and did i mention the daffodils?  another absolute favorite…there are certain people who will read this who will laugh at this point, thinking ‘what flower isn’t her favorite?’  and it’s true.  because after the daffodil, and the violet, is the lily-of-the-valley, which is my birthmonth flower and another favorite.  and the dogwood, just opening now and still an alien grey-white-green before the flowers fully bloom.  forsythia, golden-yellow shining through the bare sticks in the woods.  magnolia trees, ripe and lush and fleshy and improbable in this harsh northern clime.

lilacs!  budding and blooming already!  too early, i know, but the first time i bury my face in a lilac flower and breathe in always feels like a miracle.  rows of orderly tulips, standing straightly erect like soldiers.  hyacinths.  squat but bright and oh so sweet-smelling.  i resent hyacinths for being so low to the ground.  i have to get right down and often dirty to get a proper sniff, and i think i have made many a passerby look twice with my flower-smelling antics.  i get very excited when i see hyacinths in a planter that’s easily nose-accessible.

did i mention the flowers?  oh i did?  well don’t forget the lovely lovely leaves, popping out in a gold-green-wet haze over the bare bark of the trees.  every day they get bigger and greener, and it’s such a joy to know that in a month or two they will be big and deep green and leathery and they will blow in the wind and reveal a silvery underbelly.  and the bright green grass waking up after the freeze of winter.

i could now segue into the elusive culinary delights of spring…asparagus, rhubarb, pea shoots, local lettuce…but i have a thesis to write.  thus ends my purple prose for the time being.  (extra credit if you can tell me how the phrase ‘purple prose’ is related to ‘the white way of delight’)

i am so excited for the roses…

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