Blossoming Creativity

Connecting with the first buds of spring

It feels like the year should start with the blossoming of the first spring bulbs. You know, that day when you notice a patch of dirt has a splash of vivid purple—crocuses, popping out of nowhere. (Fun fact: Great Britain and its colonies did not begin following the Gregorian calendar until 1752. Before then, New Year’s Day was March 25. I vote to change it back.)

Spring focuses our attention on the natural world, encouraging us to watch it unfold, tender leaf by tender leaf, blossom by blossom, until it gets really excited and, like a three-year-old on a sugar high, bursts out everywhere with tulips competing with dogwoods and azaleas for attention. But in early spring, the changes are gradual: fragile white snowdrops, way-too-yellow forsythia, nodding daffodils, palest-of-pink cherry blossoms, and perhaps my favorite stage in nature, baby leaf-green leaves.

As you may know, spending time in nature gifts a remarkable array of benefits, both physical and mental: better sleep, lower blood pressure, reduced risk of chronic disease and psychiatric disorders, increased positive emotions, and decreased anxiety. (Wow.) It’s even been scientifically proven to increase creativity and rewire the brain to be more open, flexible, and receptive to generating new ideas. (For more, I highly recommend The Nature Fix: Why Nature Makes us Happier, Healthier, and More Creative by Florence Williams.) Big doses of nature are great—long walks, hiking, camping—but little ones do good too.

A spring creativity challenge. Pick a tree or a bush. Give it a name, if you like. Jeremy, for example, or Emily, or Bushy-bush. Whatever works for you. Take a few minutes to look at him or her—really look—at the tiny buds and shape of the branches, snapped short where the deer may have pruned a bit too much. Maybe give them likes (sun, water, warm days, being admired) and dislikes (frost, dog pee), even a personality. Visit your new friend every day or so, watch how they change, buds turning to tender tiny bright green leaves or heart-cheering flowers. Not a five-second glance as you rush out the door, but take your cup of coffee or tea and visit for a bit. Give them a pat. Ask how they’re doing. So what if your partner or spouse or kids think you’re nuts. You have a new friend, and they don’t.

Bonus points. Draw a picture. Or write a poem. A bad one is fine. No judging, pretend that you’re five, back when it was perfectly acceptable to color the sky green and add unicorns to your picture because you liked them. Or try a neurographic doodle inspired by spring. Drawing a single-line doodle, then smoothing out where the lines intersect, allegedly “links your conscious and subconscious mind and creates new neural pathways,” resulting in a sense of well-being. I found it relaxing, no artistic talent required.

Cherry blossom-inspired doodle by author

I’m lucky enough to have Japanese cherry trees to befriend. It’s a bit of an obsession in DC, watching the buds move through the six official stages of bloom—green buds, florets visible, floret extension, peduncle elongation, early pink, and puffy full—watching the weather and eagerly anticipating the peak bloom, planning when and where you’ll go see the trees. (Which, by the way, are even more spectacular and magical in person than photos can convey.) We usually celebrate the cherry trees in the Japanese way with an O-hana-mi with friends, literally a “looking at the flowers” picnic under the trees. But if you don’t have a Japanese cherry tree nearby, I think it would work as well under any tree you particularly like (remembering to give your picnic blanket, legs, and feet a good spritz with bug spray first—always advisable before spending time in nature on Martha’s Vineyard).

Happy Spring!

Yoshino cherry trees in various stages of bloom, photos by author