Lichen

This spring has been a slow starter- and I've found myself outside staring at bare trees and branches, straw coloured grass and the tips of bulbs peeking out through the soil. One bonus to this type of spring is the chance to appreciate what we've got nature wise right now. It's easy to be enthralled in the natural world in the fall and the late spring and summer, even the dead of winter has some obvious beauty to it, but the in-between times can be tough- the promise of leaves and flowers seems a long way off out here, and we're caught in this liminal state where it feels like early spring has overstayed it's welcome and true spring isn't springing fast enough.

You have to look at the subtle to find something that can absorb you while you wait for the obvious things to hurry up. It's a push to go past flowers and start studying the shape of the trees- the shadows of branches on a weathered table top, the golden and grey lichen that thrive on those branches, the way that the straw coloured grass matches exactly my little one's hair.

Maybe the lesson this spring is teaching me that savouring subtlety is one way to thrive in a liminal state, when you're not quite where you want to be- but you're on your way- maybe it's best to enjoy the small things- the microcosms- and forget about the end result for a bit.

I've tucked these pruned branches into a cast iron planter I have standing outside- and am enjoying their architectural shapes while I wait for the sweet peas to grow up around them.