Monthly Archives: May 2016
Contrary to popular opinion, the colorful glory of fall foliage season is not when the northern woodlands are at their most enticing. Rather, the subtle kaleidoscope of colors and textures that bursts forth over six weeks or so each spring is the time that their beauty is most dazzling—if you look closely!
This first flush isn’t nearly as flashy as the forest’s autumnal swan song; indeed, there’s nothing particularly compelling about the mist of dusty olive-green gradually filling out the brown of long-dormant hillsides. While we welcome the promise of leafy woods to come, this initial pulse seems little more than a prelude to summer. Birds and springtime flowers, frogs and peepers, shirt-sleeve sun are what capture our attention, while the woods awaken in the background.
Look at bit closer, though, and the prelude becomes a delight-filled symphony in its own right. It is—by far!—the time of the most varied visual delights: brilliant two- and three-toned buds bursting forth; tumbling crimson maple-flowers; feathery beech leaves cracking open their long, arcing sheaths; fiddleheads unfurling atop thin stalks. And as a backdrop to all this, an impressionistic splattering of new leaves in a diverse palette of color tones is gradually filling the fractal lacework of the forest canopy. Many leaves begin as rusty-browns and dirty-greens, a few shine in deep reds, and of course there’s every shade of green known to god and man (sage to spring to yellow to olive), while just for good measure, a few trees leaf out in pale off-white, tinged with a dusty yellowish cast or the merest hint of green.
Looking across the landscape, all this can fade into a drab-but-promising brownish-green, but up close the colors all pop and contrast in delightful ways. The trick is to pause and take in these details when you’re walking; then you’ll notice this same incredible variety splattered across all the larger views as well. Yet it’s not just about color—there’s no arguing that fall dazzles in that department. But all those bright autumn leaves are, well, leaves—while the springtime woods are a mad mashup of new and rapidly-changing arboreal body parts.
In the near- to middle-distance, across a meadow while on foot or alongside the road when driving, the diversity of forms and textures is most striking—and it’s here that spring most dramatically out-dazzles fall. While the endpoint of nearly all that’s now bursting forth will be quite similar (deep green leaves filling the space in and around all the trees and bushes), for these first few weeks, our view into and through the woods is a jumble of radically different shapes, sizes, and structures. Leaves, of course, at every stage (bright and tender first shoots, drooping rust-tinged youngsters, and stiffening-up, nearly mature greens), but also tree-flowers—some soft and droopy, others in compact bunches, and a few elaborate and brilliant cascades—and some early seeds as well, especially the red maple wings that add their bright touch to the end of this spring emergence, in the same way their flowers first speckled the canopy while the season opened. Often, new green leaves are tucked right up against flowers or seeds, creating a temporary and eye-catching contrast in both color and texture.
All these joyful first expressions of spring add up to create a delicious cacophony of awakening. Around every corner is a new surprise—little microhabitats with a sudden splash of full-on deep green where a tree or few are nearly leafed out, or a north-facing hillside that lags a couple weeks behind, silhouetted webs of branches just beginning to be obscured by tiny early growth and the faintest hints of color. Traveling short distances—toward or away from the coast, or into the hills, or a couple hours north or south—also triggers quick rewinds and fast-forwards through this most varied of months.
It won’t be long until the thick blanket of green settles into its summer uniformity. For now, though, the awakening of the woods unfolds slowly, inviting us to take in the subtly compelling wonders of these precious, fleeting weeks of the Spring Tinge.
Lots more images below; click through to revel in the tinge!
All images in this post can be enlarged by right-clicking & choosing “open link in new tab/window”
(not “open image in new tab/window”)
An April maple, its intricate tangle of latticed branches silhouetted against the sky. Six months of rest, winter-bare—but now, this week, the stark duotone of branch and sky is spangled with glimmers of red: tender, vibrant tree-flowers speckle the crowns of all the maples in these woods. Across the field, this hint-of-red brightens the undulating skyline of the forest. And right here, arcing over the trail, the branches fifteen feet above are likewise bursting forth with brilliant bits of crimson. So celebratory, so alluring—yet just out of reach, a tad too far away to really see. This calls for some Vision Enhancement!
A quick probe into the daypack; aha, yes. There we go. And wow, what an exuberant outpouring it is! Spilling from tiny flaring petals, three or four thin stalks droop downward, each one opening into another miniature flowering knobbule that culminates with a final looping bit of plant-flesh, curving like a cat’s claw—this whole elaborate flaring-forth radiant in the exact same shade of rich red (perhaps just slightly tinged toward salmon), and each of these little flowers tucked in close to several others, all tumbling together in a jumble.
I pan slowly up, past similar clusters of bright blooms scattered throughout the twiggy expanses of the maple here beside me . . . then slip for a few moments into hyper-3D, sliding through the vivid depth of field that’s one of the special joys of playing around with binoculars: slowly fingering the focus knob, dropping ever deeper into the tangle, skipping from flower to flower, branch to branch, each blurry background layer, in turn, coming into sharp relief then gradually softening again into a smudge of diffuse color as the next cluster behind rolls into prominence.