I Heart Forsythia

{Courtesy: Fantastic Plants}

I am one of those people where certain sights, sounds and smells inexplicably jerk me back to past experiences and memories in an instant. Forever hopelessly romantic and nostalgic, this is especially true when recalling cherished childhood memories -- crisp spring days, a cardinal's song, the smell of cold grass and the huge forsythia that grew at the corner of the yard next to the small lamp post. To this day it is impossible for me to see a forsythia and not think of my grandma. I think she'd enjoy that about me. She loved her gardens. I wish I was half as good a gardener as she, but the Green Thumb gene skipped me entirely and my sister was born with all of the finesse and patience it takes to be a stellar gardner.

But there is something just so about a forsythia. Just one of those forces of nature you can let go of completely and beautiful things happen without much interference. Just the idea of the stalky, erratic branches shooting out in every direction, covered in tiny bursts of sunlight makes me smile. I do. I love forsythia in springtime.