The Unnoticed Beauty of Blue Toadflax

I was afraid this would happen. Right now, we are in the kō known as momo hajimete saku, or "Peach Blossoms Begin to Bloom." This period, lasting from March 10 to March 14, marks the early signs of spring as peach trees begin to unfurl. However, my peach tree, an early-fruiting Elberta variety, has already bloomed and leafed out.

So what should I write about instead? Looking around my yard, I noticed the delicate purple flowers of Blue Toadflax (Nuttallanthus canadensis). An early blooming wildflower, it is considered by many to be a weed. To me, it is tinged with nostalgia, as it reminds me of early spring mornings when the ponds are steaming and the dew hangs heavy in the still-chilly air. When I was much closer to the ground than I am now, I loved looking out over the haze of delicate purple bells floating over unmown lawns, merging with the misty morning fog that would soon burn off.

Although I now have to stoop quite low to take in their diminutive flowers, I still appreciate their ability to persevere and the unruly beauty they bring to even the most sterile and over-manicured landscapes. Blue Toadflax thrives in the overlooked spaces—roadside ditches, forgotten corners of fields, and along the edges of pathways. It doesn’t demand attention, but when noticed, it offers a quiet kind of wonder.

Perhaps this is what microseasons are truly about—attuning ourselves to the overlooked, the unexpected. While the traditional calendar tells me to look for peach blossoms, my own landscape tells a different story. Instead of a singular moment dictated by the schedule of trees, I find an unfolding narrative written in wildflowers, morning mist, and memories of childhood wonder.

Spring’s arrival is not a single event but a chorus of small, fleeting transitions. And right now, for me, it is heralded not by peach blossoms but by the tiny, tenacious flowers of Blue Toadflax.