Forget the Scottish botanist.

Humor me.

Is not this name

the name

of a forgotten muse?

Note her veracity:

Spring has come.

Note her tenacity,

her yellow saturation,

and to move out from Asia

and populate the world—

A Dionysian consort

if there ever was one.

Just a twig is all it takes,

stuck back into the ground,

and she’s back.

Our, now global, resilient

trumpeting herald

of Spring.

6 thoughts on “Forsythia

  1. You took me straight to my Nan’s skill. She could take any twig, put it straight into the earth and it would grow. She was a water diviner too. Her maiden name? Forsyth. Spooky.

  2. I love Forsythia. I have a medium-sized one in my back garden, and it’s been growing there, successfully, for many years. It’s always the first plant in my garden to flower as soon as the first signs of Spring are here.

    My Mum used to have ‘green fingers’ and could turn her hand to growing anything. She, too, had a Forsythia in her garden. Just as you described, my Mum was able to take cuttings of anything and start them growing all over again as a new plant. She never ceased to amaze me.

    My garden is sadly not wheelchair accessible, so I have to admire my Forsythia and lots of wild plants that grow everywhere from afar. I like to keep a lot of my garden wild for the benefit of our bees, butterflies, birds etc. I have a lawn, which my friendly DIY man cuts every now and then. I’m also lucky enough to have a tall bank of trees at the back of the garden. Apparently, there used to be orchards where my house now stands. I did have some ash trees, too, but sadly, they have all died from Ash Dieback.

    Not sure why I’ve written all this; I was just inspired by your lovely post and glorious photo of your Forsythia 💛.

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