Dogwood blooms told a tale of Spring. Their delicate flowers changing each day from translucent green to bright white. They looked to the warming March skies. Giving notice and a promise of renewal all across the South.
She had braced herself in the fall chill and kept her beauty hidden in her most stark form. Refusing to share her secret as Winter ravaged her naked limbs through the long cold nights, she saved herself for Spring.
March found her wanting, and her buds strained to join the azaelas and babies breath whos flowers already covered the south, bringing color to the grey gardens and roadsides. Vanquishing the dark monochromatic world back to winter and memory.
Soon the dogwood be the home for bluejays and cardinals returning to mate and renew their lives. Her soft green leaves would return to catch april's loving rain and in Summer with a family of squirrels living in her branches she would fulfill her quest of hope and store the Summer in her soul.
A promise to the world once more that through our bleakest chill, she will return when, in our need as we look for signs and wisdom. When March comes round and dogwoods bloom to renew our dreams and hope.