On the George Washington Bud Project


In which The Gay Recluse is increasingly obsessed with spring.


The garden at the end of winter is not exactly a joy to behold: branches are bent or broken, evergreens are pale, and even the ground — littered with dead leaves and twigs — seems inhospitable.


But a closer examination reveals signs of life: the first photo above is a Sycamore Maple (Acer pseudoplatanus “Eskimo Sunset”) and this is a tree peony. If all goes as expected, they will both be in full bloom within a a few months.


Even the climbing hydrangea is prepared for the warmer days ahead; one advantage of being a plant, it seems, is that you are less deterred by circumstances beyond your control, and simply welcome the change you know is going to come.

One Response to “On the George Washington Bud Project”

  1. Reminding me that the ancient definition of the word “Hope” is not merely wishing something would happen (i.e. whish-washy hope), but Earnestly Expecting something to happen.

    It is knowing that the good we seek is already on its way, indeed, it has already arrived, and we just need to catch up to the realization, open our eyes, and see.

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