Sunday, April 11, 2010
contrast, ok, buds
Spring and Autumn.
"OK, Nan?" says a young man to his grandmother, seeking approval of the lunch he has stood her."I enjoyed the pickled onions," says Nan, who you suspect enjoyed little else of the pub lunch. "I'm not a fan of pickled onions," says the young man. He indicates his plate, where, in contrast to his grandmother's debris-strewn plate, nothing remains apart from a butter pat wrapper and a couple of pickled onions. I think to myself: go on Nan reach across and take those onions! But she is too well bred.
Suddenly you notice a tree, which yesterday was completely bare, to day covered in a green mist of opening leaves. What is so gratifying is that all the buds, all over the tree, have opened all at the same time. Obvious. Only to be expected. But today the tree seems amazingly powerful, a cause for celebration, a rite of Spring.