and in case anyone is still reading Closely Observed, I am now blogging at Greens & Berries.

The Greens is about gardening, the Berries is about food and nutrition, and the Preserves is a lot like Closely Observed — stories, poems, photos, art, quotations, and other discoveries that bring me joy, insight and deeper connections to others and the natural world.

Please say hello if you come on over.

What is it?

Who are the 350 messengers?

Read more in Bill McKibben’s compelling Orion article, When Words Fail.

It convinced me to get involved — TONIGHT. (I usually like to sleep on things — especially a commitment to yet another organization.)

Enjoying the blossoms with eye and nose (this variety has a delicate scent) makes up for past years’ gardening failures and disappointments, and the never-ending challenge of adapting my dreams to a small balcony space.

Just one or two fresh blossoms each day — enough for me. Bonus: sunshine.

Confession: There’s always a bit of hesitation before I click on “publish” because I know my photos are very amateur, taken with a point-and-shoot or “rinky-tink-tink” camera. But they are doing their job: opening my eyes to sensory experiences, subtle details and seasonal rhythms I’ve missed, even though I always thought I was a “nature-lover.” Please don’t be like I was up until a year ago — scared to use my digital camera — or even a few months ago — scared to move it from the “auto” setting. You’ve nothing to lose and worlds of wonder to discover, both inner and outer.

This is either Kanzan or Pink Perfection, I think. As I learned this evening, cultivar identification is truly a spectator sport.

And now, on to the apple blossoms.

Delicate white and pale-purple Trillium ovatum (Western trillium),

Pretty-in-pink blossoms that will become summer’s sweet and juicy berries,

A cerulean blue sky.

Pink Umbrella

Respite from the rain,
under a pink canopy;
gray skies — go away!

So how am I spending the second week of my vacation? Enjoying the pink Spring, despite the rain. Writing haikus about the weather. Going for walks until I’m cold, wet and droopy — like these cherry blossoms but not nearly as young or pretty. Most of all, longing to be in these gardens. Maybe tomorrow.