Blossom glows brightly

An empty picnic bench under a cherry tree laden with white blossom

The picnic bench invites me to dwell awhile, under the umbrella of white blossom. A cock pheasant paces back and forth behind me, rhythmically calling, steady squeaks, like a foot pump. His colours and markings remind me of the caged birds in the park when I was a child. My favourite was the Golden Pheasant, native to the mountains of China, with a golden crest, scarlet body, blue wings and a stripy orange ruff (like a cape). Now there are feral populations in the UK and elsewhere in Europe. There’s at least one bird in my local woods, though I’ve never spotted him.

A cock pheasant

The low rumbling purr of an incoming bumblebee captures my attention, as it lumbers over the grass and tree roots. It has a jet black body and a red tail, so it’s a female Red-tailed Bumble (the males have a yellow head). In an instant, her presence makes me aware of the constant drone of bees in the blossom above my head.

Looking up, the flowers are glowing brightly against an intense blue sky. There are hundreds of small brown bees hopping between each dangling bouquet. I am bathed in a contented, gentle hum that barely changes pitch or tempo.

The blossoms are fresh and new, not yet ready to sprinkle their petals at every breath of wind. Some still hide, the first kiss of pink peeping out of the buds.

Cherry Blossom viewed from below, blue sky beyond

I am suddenly struck by the awareness that these thousands of blossom weren’t here a week ago. In a few weeks they won’t be here again. It seems unreal, that they can appear and vanish like magic.

This is the manic drive and energy of spring, forcing things into life that were hidden.