Before the trees are even fully leafed out, the woods seem to explode with a spectacular carpet of trillium. They blossom in unison, called out of winter-sleep in the earth, and are left alone to flourish, a protected wildflower that is illegal to pick or uproot.
It’s the profusion of these wild members of the orchid family that takes my breath away. Even the name—trillium—is so lovely, I don’t even need to see the flowers. My sense of wonder is restored by magic in May.