Pink petals are out, white petals are in

In the gradual moving of the season, most of the pink petals - fruitless plums, I believe -are quickly blowing away in the wind. They are now being vividly replaced by white blossoms from other trees (of what kind, I have no idea). They have a characteristic odor of themselves, but are different in that they are mixed in among the leaves.

Spring is well nigh upon us - good from my point of view, as I am looking forward to the bees harvesting their nectar and pollen. Another fine example of a hobby changing how one views life: I cannot think of paying more than a passing attention to such things before, but now I notice them everywhere: the brilliance of the yellow wild mustard (it is everywhere on my commute now), the gentle pre-burst of the ornamental manzinita at our office park (which is good, as there is more manizinita at the Ranch, which makes for good honey - although I have always viewed the stuff as a fire hazard!), the brilliant green of the grass. It is especially scenic driving home from work (when it's actually light), seeing the yellow mustard swaying in the afternoon sun, framed against the emerald green grass amidst the brown trunks of grape vines, preparing their spring burst even now.

It is one of those moments where the entire creation sings in one glorious opening chorus to it's Creator - a strangely appropriate and moving thing in this Easter season, when we celebrate the victory of Christ over death and sin. It's as if, this year, creation raises up the reminder of new life after death even as it prepares for another year of fruitful living.