Today it wasn't a cardinal that crossed my path but an American goldfinch not buff but canary yellow unmistakably male first alighting on burdock and then pumping himself into a pine having greeted the cardinal in similar ways in days gone by I was prepared for the surprise of the wild canary and paused to take in this little gift sure to keep the ribbon and the wrappings with the image and the feelings tucked into the pocket of my anorak safe with my notebook there to trigger my memory were she forgetful or stubborn beyond the forgivable laziness and Spanish onion skin that is memory.

Things can't be be so bad if there are lilacs. Surely a perfume sweeter than honeysuckle couldn't be wrong.  Syringa vulgaris indeed.  Not everything from the Balkans is bad, right?  Who could fault the taste of a wild canary, or American goldfinch to those who prefer precision. And after seeing a monarch camouflage herself, fail not to confirm that orange is part way between the red of first bloom and the strident violet of week two, when the lilac finishes until next May or next June. When considering the mnemonic ROY G BIV (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violent), remember that fuschia is on the way to blue.