"It no sooner comes than it is gone."

"I feel a little fluttered in my thoughts, as if I might be too late. 

Each season is but an infinitesimal point. It no sooner comes than it is gone." 

- Henry David Thoreau, Journal, June 6, 1857

Spring in the garden has overwhelmed me this year. It's almost as though it's been happening on fast forward, as in a speeded up time-lapse video.  The New Dawn rose was a riot of blooms and suddenly most of those petals are on the ground.  The amaryllis buds appeared overnight - multiples of them - and just as quickly all but two have bloomed and faded.  The clematis vine grew to cover the trellis with blooms and yet now the vine is bare.  The azaleas are covered in faded dried blooms, and the irises are spent.  I forgot to mark these misfit purple and white irises that need to be moved and now have no idea which they were (though maybe this photo will help).

And such is life, isn't it?  Sometimes the moments are crammed so full that we just can't soak it all in the way we'd like - and then those moments are past.  We want to freeze time - and we try to do just that with our photographs.
In the midst of this Spring rush I was given a gift - a sunny morning just after a soft rain had fallen when I had a few minutes without a task list or a place to be.  The angle of the light, the birds, the blooms, the fragrance in my garden - the combination of all of those elements made it feel as though I'd stepped into another world - a fairyland almost.   Time slowed for those few minutes, and the raindrops made everything seem fresh and new.

Though the height of Spring has passed, the void left by those faded blooms is quickly being filled by summer favorites.  Daylily and hydrangea blooms began appearing this week, and already the Sunburst gaillardia is in full bloom. 

The hummingbirds seem to be here to stay and the hot lips salvia is providing them with plenty of nectar.

Verbena on a stick will continue reaching for the sky.  Lantana and zinnia blooms will attract the butterflies and the one bloom on the Creme Brulee Coreopsis will turn into many.  The pastel shades of Spring will be replaced by the hot colors of summer.  And life will slow down a little. . . .I hope.