How do they manage it? If all the other trees decided to get leaves at the same time every year, I think I would purposefully avoid blooming then. (I murmur this opinion from that parallel universe where I am a plant, by-the-by). Somehow human uniformity and conformity makes me squiggle around in my seat, gerbil-nearby-trying-to-get-in. Yet with plants it is miracle, it is miracle and fire and reminder and promise, all of these things, when their symphony of colours and fabrics pulls out bow and arrow at the same time, together.
