Red In Spring

All the trees of the village hold out leafy gifts in Spring, but leaves of these red cultivars of the Norway Maple have a song and vibrancy which is all their own.

When everything else around me is green, their jubilant leaves are deep red and magenta, and they always seem to be dancing merrily in their appointed place - these immigrant maples have a special relationship with the wind, and the lightest breeze sets their leaves and branches in rollicking motion.

The skies are grey this morning, and there are high winds blowing around the little blue house as I write this — the trees in the garden resemble a whole fleet of old sailing ships going somewhere important in a great hurry — listing, creaking, tossing and moaning, they seem to be riding the waves of a vast and stormy sea. The entire weekend will be one of storms and rain, something which always seems to happen on the weekend closest to May's full moon, but we are packed and ready to go off to the woods tomorrow anyway — rain gear, "wellies" and walking sticks are near the door and so is the insect repellent, several litres of it.