It’s been a cold and wet few months here in the Bay State, but after what seemed like an interminable, dark winter, the days are growing longer, and the trees here in the city are finally beginning to bud out. Down the street from our Brookline home, the maple trees display their beautiful red flowers, and the plum and cherry trees are just beginning to show signs of life. A few blocks away, star and saucer magnolias are erupting into the spring’s earliest blooms. On my weekly distance runs along the Emerald Necklace, I watch the season march through its procession of form and colour: one week, marked by the slender golden thread-petals of witch hazel flowering along the pavement in Olmsted Park and the Arnold Arboretum - the next week, notable for wisps of green hanging from the willows in Larz Anderson Park. And all the while, the geese are returning, their squawking and droppings lining the footpath along the Muddy River.
I’ve spent the past few months in a relatively quiescent state, focusing inward, reading and writing plenty, and getting into the best physical shape of my adult life. After running and lifting six days a week throughout the winter, and paying renewed attention to my nutrition, pacing, and recovery, I’ve finally reached a point where I can casually run the half-marathon distance during weekend training. I’ll be continuing my ramp-up into the warmer months, and have registered to run my first marathon (Cape Cod) in October. Meanwhile, work is work and family is family, with all those entail. Jordan has grown into a chatty and opinionated, sharp but sweet child, able to not only speak but also translate (on request) sentences between English and Chinese, and constantly asking something or other of us (“Can I watch it?! Can I watch video, Baba? I want to see big, big train go through tunnel! After dinner, I promise!”). As his attention span has grown, so has his love of discovering the world and enjoying new things. We’ve been making an effort to bring him to new places whenever the weather allows (he still talks to us all the time about “water park” [in February] or 旅館 [‘hotel’ in March]) but he loves most of all to run around in his favorite local parks, and to stroll on down to the Brookline Village T station to watch trains go by (this season notable for 斑馬火車 (‘zebra train’), a Green Line subway car painted in black-and-white stripes, whose each rare appearance is a cause for celebration). Jordan has all the usual foibles of a toddler, mixed in with some alarmingly self-recognizable qualities - such as his moodiness, his introversion, and his ability to rather confidently and skillfully assert his opinions and pursue his interests... Nevertheless, it’s been delightful for us to teach him to move gracefully through the world (he readily says “thank you” “you’re welcome” “please” and “goodbye” in both languages; and very recently, after much teaching about “Share, Bear, Share!” he began to gift ‘his’ toy trains to a younger boy at the library). At least toward me, Jordan is somewhat economical in meting out physical affection, which makes each surprise run-up-and-hug or loudly-and-suddenly “I love you, Baba!” all the more precious. As tiring as the persistent screen-time requests can be (for the written record: we only allow it on weekend nights, after dinner), I wish this iteration of Jordan would stay awhile.
But the season marches on, and the calendar keeps turning. I’m dreading a busy summer ahead (perhaps slightly more than usual), but not before a pair of international trips (to the Outer Hebrides by myself in mid-April, and to Andalusia with a friend in May), along with a smattering of family outings (another water park vacation on Cape Cod in May, a camping trip to Tully Lake in June, and a summer getaway to the Lakes Region in July). Amidst all this, change is the only constant, and along with the trees, I’m hoping that I’m not only growing older, but also growing up and branching out - looking for my own ways to leaf and flower and add a piece of myself to the world.
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April 6, 2025: An early morning visit to Arnold Arboretum to play (very briefly) amidst the blooming carpets of violets and squills before a passing rainstorm forces us back to the car. Despite getting rained on, Jordan loves splashing around in his bright blue raincoat and booties. We head to Coolidge Corner for second breakfast and some groceries.
April 20, 2025: A visit from the my parents these two weeks. On the Sunday following my return from the Hebrides, we take a little flower walk around Brookline Village, stopping to admire the massive saucer magnolia in the yard of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church.
April 22, 2025: More signs of spring close to our home on the edge of Brookline: budding crabapples, flowering pears, and flowering maples around the Brookline Avenue park.
May 1, 2025: A flower walk around our neighborhood to mark the Beltane (Latha Buidhe Bealltainn), and the height of spring here in the city. After an unusual cold and wet winter, trees are flowering in a different order than I am used to: peak spring here is marked not by the Yoshino cherries (which already flowered two weeks earlier), but by the Kanzan cherries, eastern redbuds, lilacs, and native dogwoods. Jordan finds a bead necklace at the Kent Street playground, and we do a little photoshoot with him against the trunk of the nearby oak tree.
May 10, 2025: Jordan, Jane, and I take an extended Mother’s Day weekend getaway to the Upper Cape, to bring Jordan to yet another water park resort (the Margaritaville Cape Cod). In between trips to the indoor water park and adjoining arcade (where we play enough arcade games to win two squishy silicone avocado toys for$25 - yay!), along with eating practically nothing but fast food and smoothies for three days, we have a brief morning picnic at Veterans Park Beach in Hyannis.
