Flower Moon

Cherry tree blossoms and early spring are kind of synonymous.

And so, in spite of the fact that temperatures in my part of Canada are still mostly single digits—except maybe at high noon—I’m celebrating my favourite month with flowers.

Apologies to Norm Rosolen, who would rather see photos of flesh-eating crows.

Spring is my favourite time of year because the air is rife with the scent of new blooms. Especially lilacs, which aren’t quite out yet. That intense pungent, almost sickly sweet aroma invades the nostrils and whisks away all the cobwebs of winter.

Spring smothers you in scents. Those fleeting floral odours.

May has been my favourite month for as far back as I can remember. I still recall, albeit very vaguely, the maypole dancing I witnessed as a tiny pre-school girl living in England. I was so mesmerized by the coloured ribbons and pretty frocks of the little dancing girls that I forgot momentarily that I was on a seesaw with another girl, until she got terribly impatient with me for not doing my share of the teetering. I was totally zoned out, absorbing the sweet scents, the caressing breeze, the chattering sounds of spring and the whirl of activity around the maypoles.

How fitting that May Day this year is the day of the Flower Moon.

According to the Old Farmer’s Almanac, the name Flower Moon comes from the Algonquin peoples. The Anishinaabe culture teaches that a piece of Mother Earth was put on the back of a turtle after the great flood, and when Nanabozho (the Indigenous creator/trickster and main player in the creation of Turtle Island) saw that the turtle had thirteen sections, he compared them to the thirteen moons of the year. Each moon relates to a cycle of life/nature.

The thirteen moons explain the cycle of life and nature. The Flower Moon of May is the time when all plants display their Spirit, encouraging us to explore our own spiritual natures.

And now I will leave you with this lovely poem by 19th century American writer Henry David Thoreau, who was famous for his ponderings of flowers and nature in general:

The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray
Mounts up the eastern sky,
Not doomed to these short nights for aye,
But shining steadily.

She does not wane, but my fortune,
Which her rays do not bless,
My wayward path declineth soon,
But she shines not the less.

And if she faintly glimmers here,
And paled is her light,
Yet alway in her proper sphere
She’s mistress of the night.

Do you have a favourite flower? A favourite season?