the two springs
Because I tend to think that spring arrives on the vernal or spring equinox, I did not give much thought to the 1st of March this week, except for changing the calendar. But the people at NOAA, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, use temperature data to define seasons, in this case, meteorological spring. Which began on Thursday.
Typical of New Mexico at this time of year, the wind blew like mad yesterday, stirring up dust, pollen, and numerous particulates which turned the normally crystalline blue sky into an antique tinted photograph. From their behavior, the birds have certainly felt spring coming for a few weeks. And this morning, we thought we heard our first Say's Phoebe of the season, which, from our records, is at least two weeks early. We hope that he or she has enough flying insects to eat.
Even in the driest of seasons, green things start poking out of the ground in March. Soon, some of the ground-hugging flowers will start to bloom, including the "Easter daisies" shown here.
More low-growing, daisy-type flowers (the composite family) pop up later in the season.
Just as there is a meteorological spring and an astronomical spring for different scientific and planning purposes, there are two springs where we live, depending on whether plants and trees are on the north side or the south side of our house. In normal years, the north side of the house can have snow covering the ground until April, and sometimes longer, whereas we see the first signs of spring on the south side of the house about three weeks to a month earlier. In essence, our high pitched roof gives us the two springs here as well. The first daffodils on the north side signify that the warm season is on its way. The two images shown here are from my new "Fresh and Painterly" art card collection.
All of these photographs were made in the morning hours, before 9:30 a.m., which yielded brighter, more stark light for the daisies, but isolated light for the daffodils.
Whatever weather presents itself where you are on this wonderful planet of ours, I hope you find pleasure in it, and plentiful photographic opportunities.
until next Monday,
DB
a passion for the image@
Comments
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
I'm not ready for anyone's spring. Your fresh, bright and energetic photos belie the horror of our weather pattern skipping winter this year. Next week can you give your fans some images of what a NM winter used to be like?