A neighbor recently commented on the unusual patterns of color we are seeing this year on the autumn leaves in our neighborhood. She attributed them to our unseasonal snowstorm and freeze a few weeks ago. I hadn’t noticed the unusual patterns, but I was glad she brought them to my attention. I was reminded of the poem “Pied Beauty” by Gerard Manley Hopkins in which he gives glory to God for dappled things and…
...All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
At the same time, there is beauty in monochrome. In our backyard, the ash trees simply ignored the snowstorm. The leaves were green before the storm, and they remained so after the snow and ice melted. Now, they have turned to their reliable shade of gold.
Every two or three years, I talk my husband into a trip to the Texas Hill Country to see the Bluebonnets. This year, we planned to leave the day after Easter. I made reservations. All our plans were in order. But, of course, we had to cancel our trip.
I looked for photos from our previous trips, but they were gone. A few months ago in one of my rare photo purges, I deleted all my photos from the Hill Country.
Then I remembered the Bluebonnet seeds I bought on our last trip. After rummaging through my cupboard, I finally found them, and a few of them sprouted.
Now, a few real leaves are beginning to appear between the seed leaves. I don’t know if the plants will bloom. The weather may be too hot by the time they mature, but they give me hope. Perhaps, in a few weeks, I may enjoy that intoxicating shade of blue once more.