In praise of the spring tinge
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.
(Alright, yeah….this is definitely more colorful than most spots! But like all other images here, true-to-life.)
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”)
(this one is more like a typical subtle brownish tinge….but peer into it a bit and it’s full of all the delights)
All images by Jim Cummings
April and May, 2015 and 2016
mostly in York County, Maine
Posted on 2016/05/30, in Earth, Jimwords and tagged delight, spring, wonder. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.
The zen of spring. Nothing makes you appreciate a forest like living in the desert for awhile. I can only imagine that this beautiful optical array is accompanied by an equally resplendent sonic awakening.
Nice post Jim! I especially like all your photos of the different “tinges,” some subtle, yet all reflecting the glory of spring. Here in upstate New York, spring has transitioned to summer. Here is a poem I wrote that shares my sentiment about this:
there comes a time
when the tides of spring begin to fade
when flowered blooms
upon the forest floor are gone
when leaves full-grown
cast darkened shadows upon the glade
and peeping frogs
no longer thrill the pond with song
with saddened heart
i watch, as my beloved spring
while summer swells and takes to wing
by Lang Elliott, musicofnature.com
Yes, exactly! Beautiful.
Your beautiful photos and elegant prose bring back memories of growing up in the great north woods. I too, for all the flashy colors of fall, much preferred the slow and subtle reawakening of the forest in spring. Accompanied by the pungent smells of the opening soil and the fragrance of the blooms, and the riot of returning birdsong. Spring was a harbinger of the free play and exploration of summer, while fall could only promise the return to day prison commonly called school.
Viva la primavera!