I hope you’ve come to expect it, really. This time of year practically begs for a weekly catalog of the blooming things and I’m nothing if not up for the challenge. First the crocuses, then the daffodils and the magnolias. Next the cherries and the pear trees and lilacs. Any minute the wisteria. For a split second, the irises. And before long there will be the roses and the hydrangea and all of the summeriest flowers. When you spend the winter in snowy New York, it’s practically a requirement that you lose your mind over the fact that color’s returned to the streets and the trees have gone bananas. We joined what felt like the entire borough of Brooklyn on Sunday afternoon to stroll through the cherry trees at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. (But it was the the lilac colletion that really stole my heart.)
When you’re adventuring with tiny beings just getting to a place feels like an accomplishment, but when you can steal a few minutes on a sunny lawn drinking in the smell of lilacs? Well, then you just feel plain triumphant.
Here are a few photos from the afternoon. Not pictured: the ice cream cones and the long walk home along sleepy Brooklyn streets and the full moon rising over the city. I could relive these days for a lifetime and not get tired of them.
My guys on the cherry esplanade.
Faye under the cherry canopy.
My sister Cait and nephew Oliver watching the fish in their matching sneaks.
Muscari (and fellow loungers).
Lilacs, just opening up.
No lilacs were harmed in the making of this photograph.