Blossom Time

The blossoms have opened on the flowering trees here on the edge of the prairie, the crab apples, and cherries and mock orange.  A neighbor has a tree with a conical bloom that has a heavenly fragrance, I wish to bottle it for the bleak days of deprivation in February.

The peepers have also hatched, and their song was a delight this morning until a car show moved into the park across the street and we thought we'd loose our minds to the deep thrumming low bass sounds of a car stereo that went on and on for hours.  It was such a low frequency tone I think my heart rhythm was permanently altered - it sounded like the soundtrack from an end of the world movie where the alien apocalypse has occurred.
 
I don't know why people think constant noise is desirable, to those of us who enjoy the sounds of nature and the wind and birds, the cacophony that intrudes from cars and ice cream trucks is almost enough to send us to an asylum.

Today the platters I threw on Wednesday popped off their batts and were ready to trim with a neat and tidy foot.  The potter who gave a workshop this weekend showed a many layered technique of glazing, now after a paper resist and black underglaze coat I will do the initial bisque firing, then glaze, a wax resist pattern and second glaze for contrast.  She's also noted for her garden stacks, or totems, and I have all sorts of ideas my hands are eager to translate lumps of clay into more totems.  I only have four in the yard at the moment (!).  Would it be tacky to put a tasteful sign near the curb offering them for sale?

In a moment of garden victory, the tulips survived from bulb to bloom,  despite the voracious rabbits that inhabit our neighborhood.  I was all set to take a few photos when an afternoon thunderstorm rolled in with thunder and a heavy downpour - tomorrow I will get a picture of them in all their red glory.  Namaste.