Black locust flowers are in full bloom.
If you catch them at the right time—after the white, pea-like blobs open, but before they age into fusty insipidity—they smell divine.
The fragrance is worth the year’s wait.
If you catch them at the right time—after the white, pea-like blobs open, but before they age into fusty insipidity—they smell divine.
The fragrance is worth the year’s wait.
Look around the interstates right now, and the white trees you see are black. Black locust. There may be dogwood lingering, and I hope there is, but the two can’t be confused. Locust blooms are not little white plates stretched on graceful branches in the understory: rather, they are white bunches of grapes drooped from scraggly canopy. And they smell divine. Continue reading “Black locust bloom”