End of April, beginning of May, it’s pretty well peak time for flowers. Back in the last millennium, I used to run lots of flower pictures here, but they started blurring together in my mind in a way that made me not want to. But sometimes when the sun’s in just the right place, the flowers insist.
These trilliums are at our cabin on Keats Island. They’ve usually bloomed and gone by the first time in spring we get over. Almost painfully pure, to my eye.
A few houses down the street from us, this tulip, not content behind the white pickets, strains sunward.
Don’t know exactly which tree to which these blossoms pertain.
The final three are from our own front yard.
Under the magnolia.
Azalea army.
If you were tiny enough, you could plunge into that tulip and have a color experience so intense it might be fatal.
