Rebekah Wallace, Contributing Writer
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
A.E. Housman – “Loveliest of Trees”
Our little path to Carpenter might not resemble anything close to Housman’s “woodland ride,” yet the other day, as I headed to my first class after break, I was quite pleasantly surprised by the blossoming trees along the path, my gaze grabbed by the epiphany of pink.
It is amazing what the emergence of spring can do for one’s posture. All of a sudden, I found myself looking up, gazing ahead, and basking in the beauty of a little daub of color on the normally unremarkable landscape.
These sprigs of spring have such character in their color; it is amusing to see how random clusters of fuchsia nestle cheekily amid the pale pinks of their surrounding siblings. And of course, we must not forget the candy-striped blossoms whose peppermint petals freshen the breeze.
The only danger in such a picturesque scene is a bench overhung with blossoms, beckoning passersby to repose on its placid seat, instead of continuing on to class.