Today I think I am mostly going to fill the page with visuals. Spring has truly sprung.

My family are East Coast-West Coast people. At times all of us have been living in the East. Other times all have been residing in the West. There have been periods where there has only been one parent or sibling on one coast or the other. A handful of us here, a couple of us there. Over the decades, the numbers and configurations keep shifting, as some of us (but not all of us!) have gone through and continue to go through our nomadic dances, spanning five East Coast states and three West Coast states.

I am in the Northeast and have been for a long, long time now. But I still try to go back when I can, and when I do, it provides a temporary – but comforting – sense of place.

This year when I went to visit my family in the west, I was lucky enough to catch some lovely earlier blooms happening. The rolling hills and slopes were still verdant and had not yet become the hot, sleeping brown hushpuppies of summer.

In the gardens, French Lavender was in full flower, lending peeks into a mauve fairy-land.

Intoxicating clouds of Jasmine stopped you short in your tracks, luring one in for repeated inhalations of sweet perfume and gasps of “Oh My God!”.

Tiny blue orchid-like blossoms emerged from large bushes of fragrant Rosemary.

Blueblossom (Ceanothus thyrsiflorus) added a stunning hints of deep purple/blues.

Picturesque vineyards stretched out for miles, the vines just beginning to leaf, with promises of bounty to come.

California Poppies were everywhere. In people’s gardens, growing wild by the roadside, into open fields, and glowing in the sunlight along shoreline cliffs.

With the cerulean sea as backdrop, hot pink and creamy white Ice Plants (Carpobrotus) clinging to the cliffsides created an alluring carpet of feathery petals.

Blankets of California Goldfield (Lasthenisa californica) stretched out into the distance, a super-bloom.

They mingled and overlapped with Douglas Iris, extending out into a separate carpet of its own.

In the forests, the Trillium was almost finished.

Lupin emerged in sunny, green-tangled patches

and tall, oat-like grasses sparkled in the sun.

Small lizards darted across sidewalks and through gardens.

A large, majestic turkey struts through high grasses, displaying his fan for his harem.

On our walks, the sounds of Brown Creepers, Warblers, Vireos, Tanagers, Wrens, Woodpeckers, Ravens and Finches serenade us.

I soaked up the images of some of my favorites… the smooth and peeling bark of Madrone, and poppies! poppies! poppies! before heading back to the East.

And when I arrived home – back on the Urban Porch – Spring was just exploding there too. How lucky to have Two Springs!!!

The Hyacinth surrounding the very young Sugar Maple was doing its usual spread in the median, amidst emerging Hosta leaves.

Like clockwork, the one clown-looking rando Tulip popped up again.

A great big clump of Creeping Phlox clusters and spreads at the bottom of the stairway.

The Solomon’s Seal has opened its droplets

and the single, strange Trillium is doing its annual “almost but not quite open all the way” dance.

Despite being overshadowed by a massive Rose of Sharon, the Azalea has managed a few blooms.

On our dog-walk a few houses down, we find dainty Columbine in gentle ballet pink,

and some fancy variety of lilacs that are incredibly, gloriously scented. I stop and sniff, and sniff, and sniff….

The Urban Porch faces a huge, old, beautiful cherry tree growing across the street. It is possibly the best tree on the entire block. I am grateful to have caught it in full bloom again this year.

Woodpeckers, Cardinals, Chimney Swifts, Carolina Wrens, Tufted Titmouse, Crows and the relentless House Sparrows busy themselves with nesting and fill the neighborhood with song. Happy turtles in the bog emerge on these warm days and sun themselves on logs.

When I arrived back from our dog walk today, I discovered – once again – that plants and other debris had somehow become tangled in my hair. After doing a double check to make sure it was not something alive, I have determined this thing might be a dried up Rose of Sharon pod. I’m not sure how that even happened (see Things That Land In Your Hair 7/30/22 for some history), but I guess it’s an indication that I am truly back home.

Rudi suns himself on this sunny spring day, as we move into the beautiful month of May and enter yet another cycle of Views From the Urban Porch to look forward to.

~*~