This year we are planning to do the Bike Across Kansas (BAK), a seven-day, 475 mile ride from the western border with Colorado to the eastern border with Missouri. It’s a great adventure filled with the beauty of the Kansas plains, the hospitality of the small towns that we stay in, and the camaraderie of 800 fellow cyclists. We are now in serious training mode. We headed out on our bicycles yesterday morning with chilly temperatures in the 40’s and overcast skies, hoping to get a ride in before the promised rains that were on their way. As is common in spring-time in the upper midwest, the weather can change at any time (and usually does). The skies were gray and dark to the north, but occasionally the sun would peek out long enough to give us a bit of warmth. Unlike our fellow-cyclists living south of Minnesota who are now logging rides of 50 miles and more, we are just unthawing from our winter weather. Our ride yesterday gave us the chance to test multiples layers of clothing along with full-fingered riding gloves to keep warm. Eventually we will pare down to single layers and cycling shorts but that time is still ahead of us. Yesterday’s ride was filled with the scent of blooming lilacs and the spring-time colors of the ornamental trees. All this, including the rain holding off until the afternoon, made our ride a delight and a joy.
spring
Spring pastels
My earlier spring photographs have been bright and full of color. But today’s photo is more of a pastel, with shades of blue and purple. I was at the spring flower show at the Marjorie McNeely Conservatory today. And just as cloudy and gray as the skies were outside, the flower show was full of colors – blues, pinks, reds, and greens. It was a wonderful sight and yet the colors were almost too many and too much. My eye was drawn to this lovely crocus that was stretching skyward and set off by the blue hydrangea behind it. The subtlety of the colors was wonderful and the bit of orange that the crocus threw skyward was the perfect accent color. The blues reminded me of the bluest of skies that we can get after a spring rain as well as the lovely blue lakes that grace the landscape here in Minnesota. So I’m now adding pastels to my palette of colors of springtime.
Purple and gold of spring
The season of spring is the season of color. We come out of the white, silent world of winter and our senses are shocked by the abundance of colors. Our grasses are green, the new leaves are starting to emerge, and the flowering trees are now taking their turns. My eyes have been caught by the brilliant yellows and golds of the forsythia bushes that are now blooming. And when I drove past an entire hillside of them glowing in the sun I knew I had to return. But yesterday morning was cloudy and cold, with a gusty sharp wind that was keeping our temperatures in the 40’s. As I drove over to the yellow hillside I wasn’t too terribly excited because of the conditions. But what I found as I wandered around on the hill was a beautiful old redbud tree that has also responded to our early spring with buds of purple that were starting to emerge. Those of you from Minnesota will know that the University’s colors are maroon and gold, and so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that this hillside of forsythia and this wonderful purple/maroon redbud was on the Saint Paul campus. Do you suppose this is a coincidence?
Morning magnolias
Last week saw the end of winter with ice-out on our Minnesota lakes. This week we plunged head-first into almost-summer (oops – where was spring?) with green grass nurtured by light rains and warm sunshine. The birds have been singing early in the mornings and there are daffodils and crocus showing off their colors amidst all the burgeoning green.
Last month I posted a photo of the magnolia tree that is outside our front window. At the time the tree had buds and looked rather gangly. She has now come into her prime, graced with large white blossoms, hiding the softest of pinks near the blossom base. It is a joy to see the white petals shimmer in the early morning mist, and then turn almost translucent as the sun reflects off them later in the day. It is one of the short-lived joys of spring that graces our transitioning landscape prior to the arrival of summer.
An early morning symphony
In a highly unusual fashion, summer came blowing in on southerly winds this past week, seeming to pass over spring and jumping straight to 80 degree temperatures. When I awoke yesterday morning to 59 degrees I grabbed my camera and headed out the door. I was hoping to photograph the red-winged blackbirds which have flown back into our area and have been heard with their brilliant singing. At a nearby lake I wandered down near the shore where there were cattails and reeds. The area was anything but peaceful. I could hear the blackbirds (although they were sitting high in the trees) and the distant cardinals and blue jays. And high overhead the geese and ducks were calling back and forth as they searched for open water. Many of our lakes have experienced an early ice-out due to the warm temperatures, but on this lake there was open water near the shore, an area of thin ice towards the center, and then another area of water. A muskrat floated by the shoreline in a lazy enjoyable manner. The morning was alive with activity and was in such stark contrast to our quiet hushed mornings of winter. As I composed this photograph I heard the sound of something or someone walking on the dried leaves across the small inlet. I looked up and found a deer watching me. She didn’t seem upset by my presence but rather curious. We watched each other for a while, and then she was joined by another deer. Perhaps they were also enjoying the morning’s early symphony, the smells of spring, and the promise of the changing seasons.
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