The Pacific dogwood is flowering, which is almost enough to make up for my lousy week. In our old neighbourhood on the Saanich Peninsula, the neighbourhood with the manicured lawns and sculpted perennial beds, these were carefully cultivated specimen trees. When they flowered we would drive past the few nearby and admire them and wish we could have one, too.
In our new neighbourhood they grow wild, and are everywhere. Nobody takes care of them, and they still put forth masses of creamy, buttery yellow flowers. It reminds me of when I first came from Toronto and was astounded that I could pick buckets of wild blackberries by the roadside for free. And they were even better than the plastic-packaged blackberries I bought at the grocery store, half-a-pint for $5.99. I was amazed by the bounty then, and I feel just as surrounded by dogwood riches today.