A Bloom-Filled Pause: Spring Flowers and a Peacock Named Fred - April 1, 2025

After a few days away from photography, I felt the pull again—the kind of pull that starts quietly but grows louder as nature wakes up around you. This morning, I noticed the flowers beginning to bloom, their soft colors and gentle energy inviting me back into the world behind my lens. I decided to leave my wildlife lens at home—intentionally—so I could focus solely on capturing dreamy flower portraits, knowing full well that if a bird or squirrel crossed my path, I'd be tempted to follow them instead.

There’s something about spotting the first daffodils of spring that refreshes the soul. It’s as if they hold a quiet promise: winter is leaving, and something softer is on the way. As I walked through the first park, those classic spring showers made a sudden appearance—pouring rain with the sun still brightly shining, as if the skies were saying, Let’s wash away winter and start again, shall we?

I waited it out, soaking in the strange magic of a sunlit rainstorm, and then made my way to my second destination. What I found there felt like a celebration: an explosion of flowers, from tulips to blossoming trees, with ducks sleeping peacefully everywhere. I smiled but stayed true to my mission—no wildlife lens, no distractions. Today was about petals, not feathers.

As I wandered through the park, capturing buds in various stages—some boldly in bloom, others still shy and waiting—I found myself enchanted by the famous cherry blossoms. Fluffy, magical, and completely unbothered by their fame, they glowed in the soft afternoon light. There’s just nothing like them. The way they float on branches, like soft clouds ready to drift away, always takes my breath for a moment.

Various cherry and plum tree varieties bloom from late February through May, transforming the city into a canvas of pink and white hues.

Early spring blooms are more than just a visual treat—they’re vital lifelines for wildlife. These blossoms provide essential nectar and pollen for early-emerging bees who’ve just come out of hibernation, helping them refuel and begin their critical pollination work.

Did You Know? Studies have shown that seeing early spring flowers—like daffodils and tulips—can boost mood, reduce stress, and even lower anxiety levels. Just a short walk among blooming flowers has been linked to improved mental well-being, reminding us that nature is powerful medicine.

For birds, especially small species like chickadees and finches, the insects attracted to blooming flowers are an important food source during this transition between seasons. In many ways, these first flowers mark the true beginning of the ecological new year, supporting life in ways most of us don’t even see. Take for example, the Red-Flowering Currant. Isn't it gorgeous?

Did You Know? Red-flowering currant s a native BC plant that blooms in early spring and is an important nectar source for hummingbirds, bees, and butterflies. It's also drought-tolerant and a great addition to pollinator-friendly gardens!

Saucer Magnolias, with their large, tulip-shaped blooms in shades of pink and white, are one of spring’s most enchanting sights. Bursting into bloom before their leaves unfurl, they symbolize renewal and resilience—reminding us that beauty often arrives just when we need it most.

Did You Know? Magnolias are among the first trees to bloom in early spring, often before their leaves appear. Their large, fragrant flowers provide early-season beauty and can uplift the human spirit—especially after a long winter. While not a major nectar source, some species do attract early pollinators like beetles!

Next, I spotted a Star Magnolia in bud form. So fuzzy! Its fuzzy bud casings and pale yellowish-white petals emerging are characteristic of this early-blooming magnolia species. Magnolia buds come wrapped in their own built-in fuzzy sweaters—perfect for staying cozy while they wait for spring. Nature clearly knows how to layer up for the season!

Just when I thought my day was winding down, the unexpected happened. A male peacock, vibrant and confident, had raised his feathers in full display. No wildlife lens? No problem. I stood there, mesmerized, watching him turn in slow circles, shimmering in the sunlight, hoping to impress the nearby females—who, amusingly, weren’t paying him much attention.

From a nearby tree, another peacock called out as if cheering him on: “Work it, buddy, work it!” And I laughed—because truly, it felt like that’s what he was saying. I named the performer Fred in that moment. Fred the Peacock. People began gathering, phones out, grins spreading across faces. Fred wasn’t doing anything outside his nature. He was just being himself. And in doing so, he reminded everyone of something we often forget: that being exactly who you are, without apology, is beautiful.

Nature and wildlife never fail to quiet my mind. In a world that’s always buzzing, these moments remind me to breathe. To notice. To be. Today, it wasn’t just about the flowers or the light—it was about the magic of showing up, being present, and letting nature do what it does best: offer peace, joy, and a quiet sense of wonder.