Detail Diary, Vol #14

Spring is not linear, though it carries on

Apr 28, 2024

April 14 - 28, 2024

Dear friend,

My last Detail Diary recap ended on sun-saturated note; I had just bought a new hat and sunscreen and was nursing a few mosquito bites. Within two days, the temperature tripped and fell, and has stayed down (to the delight of skiiers). We’ve been shivering in the office, where the heating had already been turned off, and I’ve reverted to my winter wardrobe. It was humbling to observe how easily I also reverted to my winter reticence to walk in the arboretum or cycle to work. (A few sick days also intervened.) I feel like I’m missing a whole act of this whirlwind show. Still, I managed to keep the company of leaves and birds from my window and on my walk from the tram, and on one long, chilly walk home when the entire public transit system went suddenly on strike.

And the leaves and birds and even flowers have carried on in spite of the rude reversal; being spared actual frost, perhaps the lives of valley buttercup carpets were even extended as they tucked their petals in against the cold. The pigeon nest I watched forming in a pollarded maple one week was completely hidden from view the next. The boxelder samaras doubled in size. The first swifts arrived.

I’m heading out of Grenoble for the first week and half of May, and it feels a bit like a sacrifice. I’ll have to make do with the details of someone else’s spring.

Here is your usual reminder that this post is best viewed on the web or in the Substack app. (From email, click on the title of the post or “Read in app.”) Clicking on a Note will also take you to the browser/app to see its full text and sometimes additional photos. For an introduction to my Detail Diary, see here, or peruse past volumes.

Horse chestnuts give a bit of a jungly feel to the urban forest

Substack Notes was updated to allow video posts a day or two before this Detail Diary entry, but I resisted and saved this meditative video of the maple canopy for the newsletter.