Elder tree blossoms, as sweet-cream stars amid deepening green, adorn the garden as a humble lei.
The elder tree is the seasons in living form. In the winter it waves from beyond the window pane with soft wands of brown, accepting of the breeze and welcoming of heaven's gifts. Come spring it brings forth the buds that bequeath of their verdant song into the air. Blossoms open as floral fireworks, cream petals
a poetic photograph, transient and eternal, before they adorn the ground as Earth's confetti. In the strengthening summer sun it becomes a celebration of all that is green, quietly growing it's banquet of berries for the larks of the sky.
The elder tree stretches skyward in a lace of silent bark, the brown wrapping each as the most beloved of skin.
The leaves of the elder tree are as the most ancient of green eyes, open to the sunny rays - each so bold and shy, glossy and humble, as only nature can be.