Late Season Blooms
Each spring, I survive the long, gray Pacific Northwest winters by counting down the minutes until the cherries blossom. This annual occurrence, usually around mid-March, is when the drab gray skies of Seattle recede into the background at last, outshone by a riot of pink and white blossoms so prolific that they fall like snowflakes all over town.
The first spring we lived here, I waited as the buds swelled on the two flowering plums we had in the yard at our new house. Each morning, I’d check them on the way out to the mailbox, hoping for a riot of color. The neighbors’ trees started to put on their show, while our trees remained stubbornly bare.
“Maybe our yard is too shady,” I said to my husband. “Maybe they’re not healthy enough.”
The leaves emerged, which convinced me they’d never bloom. The flowering cherries and plums I’d seen all around our neighborhood, all around greater Seattle, all bloomed before they leafed out, which is part of what made them so spectacular — nothing but flowers and the backdrop of the occasional beautiful blue sky.
By early April, when rain showers and wind had knocked down most of the gorgeous blossoms, I was ready to get out the chainsaw because my trees still hadn’t bloomed.
Patience is not always my strength, and I’m apt to pull out the metaphorical chainsaw when I get…
