Saturday, May 9, 2009


The dogwoods are blooming along 405.  Their tissue-white blossoms sit heavily on the branches, weaving shyly into openings in the canopy.  They remind me of my grandparents' home on The Hill.  When we lived on the eastside, I looked forward to this part of spring, because the dogwoods gave me comfort, filling me with nostalgia.  

We don't have as many dogwoods along I-5, and my route doesn't usually take me down this stretch of freeway any more.  But last week I made the trek daily, sometimes twice in a day, to and from the hospital.  The dogwoods helped to settle my mind each day as I drove to visit my husband after his cancer surgery.  I searched for them along the freeway as I sped down the road, my weary mind spinning with fears.  I wondered "What next?" and "What if?" and tried to breathe.  The white blossoms shone against the dark evergreens and gave me a solid point to center on.  

I have seen the trees change in the past week.  The bright new spring green has morphed into the summery foliage as leaves have grown from tender buds.  The airiness of early boughs is gone, replaced by more substantial structures.  Soon the dogwood flowers will turn brown and fall off, and I will have to wait until next spring to see them again.  I will miss them.