You never hear of poets writing about birch blossoms. When is the last time you’ve sung a song about the beauty of birch blossoms? Never, I assume. And yet, they are so delightful. You just need to look closely. Little, green, tippy pagodas of delicate flowers, framed by dancing spring leaves.
Magnolias. They could be another word for white. They’re actually whiter than white.
Nothing says spring in the Pacific Northwest like salmonberry flowers. Rubus spectabilis, a fitting name for such a notable, admirable, remarkable bramble.