My aunt has this little white water flower that is quite possibly no more thanks to the tendency of the puppies to dive in and take a bath, eat, and drink from its pot.

Hibiscus is pretty, no?

A yellow lady’s slipper orchid.

Honeysuckle– the only flower we have at home too.

This interesting plant grows by the pond and has what I assume are fern-like seed pod thingies (such a technical term, right?).

Doesn’t this look like a lovely spot?  It would be lovelier without the little black white-spotted mosquitos, but I suppose one can’t have everything.

These tiny flowers become the red berries below.

I have no idea what this plant is, but it’s pretty.

This is actually a small frond of a large fern.  Ferns in Taiwan are often huge.

There is a certain wistful nostalgia that we have when we think of our childhood homes. My father is certainly not immune to this. He was downright grumpy with me upon my first visit to his house because my appreciation was considerably dampened by the mosquitos feasting on me and the lack of a flushing toilet… However, upon a quick visit, I realized what my father loved about his home. He told stories about the Japanese coming to my grandmother during the war and asking for the steel embedded in the window frames. On the last trip we went on when she was still alive, she was quite happily content, sitting on the front porch.

Here are some photos of the front yard with the flora and fauna.

Interesting long-rooted vine.

This is a water plant of some kind.

Within each of these buds, a red tongued blossom is waiting…

Doesn’t this look soft?!

Down in the depths of the old well, the ferns grow. No worries, I didn’t lose my balance to get this shot!

I have fond memories of the weeping cherry tree in our front yard transforming from deep pink buds to pale white petals raining down into the fresh shoots of spring grass. Last spring in Taipei was my first remembered spring without cherry blossoms.  I’d originally intended to visit Kyoto this weekend for the Cherry Blossom Festival where people picnic under the cherry trees.  Cherry blossoms are special in Japan because they embody the transience of mono no aware– a delight that holds a note of sorrow, because we know that it will pass all too quickly.

Visiting cherry blossoms in the misty mountains of Alishan was the chance to see their blush delicately intermingled with the forest of trees around them.

The deep pink of this particular kind of cherry tree I’d never seen before.

The kind that I’m more accustomed to is paler– and most of those were still in bud, though a few managed to bloom.

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Though it was still early in the season, some cherry blossoms and petals managed to slip down and nestle in the grass.

Happy Spring!

I wouldn’t have noticed this if one of the girls in our group hadn’t posed it for me.  I have no idea where she found it.

This was in a kitchen garden in a little town we stopped by on our way back down the mountain.   Any ideas on what it is?

Magnolias

Overhead.

Anyone know what the orange stuff is?