People tend to make a huge fuss over New England’s fall foliage; but I tend to think that there are a fleeting few days in spring that are just as spectacular. For perhaps 48 hours, every spring, the sugar maples’ flowers are out, ahead of all the leaves on the other mature trees. Looking at a hillside one will see each sugar maple picked out, as if with a very fine, dry watercolor brush in shimmering chartreuse on a backdrop of an infinite grey/brown/red. The chartreuse is almost see through, so the big limbs, the trunks, the trees beyond are all still visible; but each bud has broken forth with these long dangling flowers, several inches in length. The effect vanishes as other buds open, but just for those hours it is an amazing spectacle.
This shot of the meadow, taken a few years back, gives a hint.
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