Our poor, decrepit tree was nearly barren last year. I fretted about what might (not) happen this year, but despite the nasty, wet, cloudy weather, it has produced bountiful blooms. I can see it from the kitchen window. The other day, it beckoned me out not once but twice. In the morning, I felt compelled to delay my run and take the camera out to capture the beautiful early light. And in the afternoon, the bright sunshine and brisk wind made the blossoms dance white against the bright blue sky. I don't know how much longer the tree will survive, but I felt that I owed it to her to capture the show before it was over. I know it seems silly to wax poetic about a few ephemeral flowers on a tree, but the prospect of not seeing them made me doubly grateful. Sadly, that's the way we live a lot of our life, not appreciating something until its too late, or almost.