Another sunny Sunday

If you can call twice in a row a habit, then a Sunday afternoon bike ride in the hilly vineyards at the edge of Flein is my new one. Much like last week, I enjoyed the solitude of following the paths that climb and wind through the tidy rows of grape vines.

Waxing crescent moon straight overhead in a blue sky. Gentle breeze. Temperature right around 70 F (20 C). I saw horses in their grassy pens, a family of hairy goats (including a tiny black one), and two jack rabbits in the middle of a meadow, chasing each other in circles. Up near the edge of the woods I looked for the dark brown butterflies again. I saw only two, which supports last week's theory that their lives are particularly brief. (The German wikipedia link offers a picture of about what these butterflies look like. As far as I can tell, they live a full season, rather than mere days. If you've never tried this trick before: click on another language in the languages list, e.g., English, to be switched instantly to the same article in the other language. Braunscheckauge is apparently a Northern Wall Brown.)

Between the vineyards I spotted several fields of rapeseed in nearly full flower. Here are some photos I took last May of rapeseed in full fluorescent bloom. Note, today is April 6th, and last year's photos were a good five weeks later.

Rapeseed field near Flein (photo May 2013)

From a vineyard hill, looking down at the fields
beyond the newest homes in town (photo May 2013)

Other signs of an advanced spring: the strawberries in nearby fields are in flower already, too. The fruit trees at the edges of the agricultural fields, alongside the vineyards, and next to many buildings are also blooming gloriously. Most of them are loaded with simple white blossoms clustered like half a large popcorn ball. (There I go using popcorn imagery again.) Since most of the fruit trees around here are apple trees and since most of the blooming trees have these flowers, my conclusion is that these are indeed apple trees. (If you know better, please correct me.)

Future apples 

A wonder in form and simplicity

The grape vines still appear to be holding back. A few have released the beginnings of leaves at their budding eyes. But most have a sort of pent-up, held-breath containment. They must be waiting for rain. The earth in our gardens and out in the fields is drawn with cracks from the lack of rain. If I were a grape vine, I'd be waiting, too, until several good dowsings of rain convinced me to let forth for another season.