A songbird with a peaked head perches on a roof ridge, against the morning sun. It warbles on a single note, and seems a bit red about the edges -- mostly, of course, dark as a shadow -- but then it takes fight, spreading its wings, and the morning sunlight shines through the edges of the wings, and the other feathers, showing them red.
Clouds, rounded and flat, smooth and even as if baked, with no fuzzy edges or appendages, but around their round middles, a dent encircles them.
A burst of birds takes off and it takes a moment to realize by size that most were sparrows but the one in the middle was a hawk.
Mackarel skies, almost, the clouds rising and falling as even as fish scales -- but too fuzzy. More like henks of carded wool.
Crab apples, readying their bloom. The leaves are all stygian with the reddish/green effect, and the buds are all tightly furled -- it's a deep pink when it blooms, but before it does, the color is even more intense. When it starts to bloom, it looks paler beside the bubs, but even the palest of crab apples have a deep, empurpled pink, found only in the most flamboyant sunsets, and the darker ones stand among pinks as crimson does among the reds.
Two cardinals perching on branches, chirping sweetly, and every now and again taking flight against the sun so that their wings are glowing red.
Apple trees in bloom are in full leaf already, so you have the lovely pink of the opening blooms, the intense pink of the still furled buds, and the green beside them all. Loveliest on a little, ragged tree, with the handful of branches all pink and green.
Maples laden with their seeds, red and hanging down, ready to fly, and up on the top of each branch and bundle of seeds, the little leaves, still pale green, like a cap.
Sunlight slanting with morning over the forest, where the trees have not yet more than the smallest of leaves, but the brush beneath glows from the pale transulence of the leaves in the bright spring green like fairyland. The slant is part of it, since it does not come with afternoon, but with the evening, with the sun slanting the fairy effect returns, except that later in the morning drive, there's a stretch where the sunlight did not slant through, leaving the pale greenery spreading between the dark trunks, and very enchanted it looked like there, too.
The trees, as they lose their petals, turn to mixes of pure white and green, or dark pink and the reddish green of the leaves, all the colors lacing together.
Why do dandelions seems so out of place in the spring? The yellow is brazen, to be sure -- the wild mustard, having the same hue, spreads it out in a lacy pattern to make it more etheral, and the dandelion puts the yellow into a form of classical elegance, as does the buttercup, unlike the splot of dandelion -- or perhaps it's just that the knowledge that they will persist all summer long that makes them unfitting as a spring flowr.