Forsythia

What else is there to say?

Well, apparently, I need to say something, or I will be kicking myself for cheating on this assignment.

Despite the fact that I have always loved forsythia (I even love saying the word), I have never, ever had a forsythia bush on my property.  Which doesn't mean I didn't want to.  The time for planting forsythia seems to coincide with the financial recovery from heating oil bills, income taxes due, and property taxes pending.  So to spend large amounts of money on enough forsythia plants to line the border of my property has always been a no-go.  Hindsight is always informative:  if I'd planted just one forsythia a year, I would now have a resplendent border of joyous yellow flowers.  Or, if I was more ambitious at this time of year, I would have rooted some forsythia cuttings years ago and would now be standing back, admiring the blast of springtime hope that is forsythia.  But April and May are so full of garden and yard duties, I have resisted foresight.  My bad.

No matter.  It seems that everyone else has forsythia, and all I have to do is take a ride to anywhere, and I will be treated to a brilliant display of yellow.  The picture above was taken on my drive home from meeting my friend Nora for dinner.  I just pulled over, pointed my little camera, and the forsythia was mine.

How can anyone not fall in love with yellow flowers?  Especially those as insistent as forsythia.  There they are, all over the roadside, just daring you to be gloomy.  Look at us! they say.  Be happy!  And I fall for their pitch every time.