The brown twigs jammed into metal buckets, which Berlin florists sell for a few euros, meant nothing to me for many years: I did not understand what those branches might lead to.

 

The other day I bought a bundle of unlabelled sticks. "Johanisbeerzweige," the florist replied when I asked. At home, the delicate scent of redcurrant filled the air. Then it faded; they did little else. A slapdash housekeeper, I left them there. One day, buds began to swell.

Bud broke to leaf; then blossoms came. A familiar story, but one that seemed incredible when played out on the window ledge in late January. Two weeks later now and the leaves are still verdant. This, then, an argument in favor of branches.

 

Comments

[Katie]

I have never, never so much as given flowers a second glance at the farmers' market. I'm always single-mindedly looking for tomatoes, raspberries, etc. But this sounds magical. I wonder if such branches exist at Chicago markets. I'll have to look.

[Suzy]

You have a wonderful eye for the simple things in life. And they are beautiful through your eyes.

[Geneviève Bjargardóttir]

this is just what i could use right now in these hardest months of lingering winter - something fresh and green and full of life! if only i could find these magic branches in sweden...

[Sylee]

Katie, I have been thinking of you, and wondering if you found any.

Suzy -- thank you.

Geneviève, I feel this is the first winter when I'm armed with a little store of winter delights. Tiny moments like pinpricks of light.

[Seattle Emergency Plumber]

This is a wonderful post. I loved it. Thanks a lot!