One of the best things about an excruciatingly-long winter is that, eventually, it ends! (Definitely one of those feels-so-good-when-it-stops, phenomena). Curiously, I ran across all sorts of signs today, that it wasn’t just me feeling like I had a month of missed spring to catch up on, all at once.
Worth mentioning also (because this happy principle generalizes), Nada and I almost never have a solid plan for our expeditions, but the rate at which we encounter great stuff, just for bothering to go and look, is a hundred-percent plus! – that is – almost always more than one awesome-unexpected.
Life is a lot more interesting than we ever think it is when we get down, and sit at home imagining what’s going on, instead of getting active and checking it out (and allowing it to interrupt our funk, with something funky).
We only had time for a short one today (about 7K, or 350 exposures, depending on how you count) – so we ‘just’ encountered cool new Toronto foundational historical exhibits and nifty architecture, a brand new out-door art exhibit (with more to come), and had a perfectly-timed encounter with the notoriously short-lived Cherry blossoms in now lovely and family friendly Bellwoods Park – we even got a whole marching-band competition downtown (and with it, some of my favourite street-photographs in years – more to come).
Get out – look around – it’s really nice out there! – Okay, I’ll shut-up now – pretty-picture time, anyhow! ;o)
Long before fires, open or otherwise (top photo)
I don’t know about you, but I have very fond memories of chestnut trees (and roasted chestnuts from those old bicycle popcorn vendors, in the fall) from childhood – but I never remember studying them this early in the season. This particular chestnut, like so many plants today, was going wild and growing like crazy to make up for lost time – and happened, unlike it’s cousins, to present nice low branches for me to espy, rather closely. Cool, huh?
Nada spotted this Magnolia from way down the block – and a real beauty it is, too – sitting in front of a nice old red-brick victorian – looks postcard-happy.
My photo pals will appreciate how pleased I was with the specific plane of focus, here – managed to catch my entire subject, texturally-clear (windy, too!).
The bees were in their glory, let me tell you – hovering around slow, half-drunk with the abundance of pollen – some of them had legs so fat and yellow with what they’d already stored, they looked like tiny Clydesdales.
Nine out of ten, agree
But then, who can blame them? No one could ever convince me that each different pollen doesn’t have a distinct and interesting flavour to them. Considering the complexity subtlety and accuracy of their (flying-dancing) language, when it comes to describing time and space, one can even imagine rhapsodical lyrical odes to cherry-blossoms in the form of chandelles, incipient spins, and elegant lazy-eights.
Pardon me, bud
What is it about nature, that make it so confoundingly inexhaustibly and incomprehensibly creative? Try as hard as you will, for an entire life, to catch some shade of it’s beauty with your pen, or instrument – and it will find a way to humble you again, with all-surpassing beauty, or exquisite vitality.
Almost too perfect, isn’t it? One gets the feeling that somewhere in the world, there is a branch of art and botany which knows precisely how to snatch this assembly all of a piece, and create an instant bouquet (with a perfect corsage also clenched between pinky and thumb, just to show-off).