The Taurus time of year is awesome. (And so is this zodiac sign: just ask any Taurus you know!)
Why?
Because nature goes into overdrive when the Sun moves through the Taurus zodiac sign. And the earth become incredibly fertile and beautiful (for those of us up here in the northern hemisphere).
It gives us beauty plus the good sense to appreciate it and savor the happy, good times.
One of my fondest and most enduring memories during Taurus time comes from my kindergarten days: making May Day baskets. Created in construction paper and decorated with nature images, the baskets honored the first day of May and the warmer weather and abundant blooms of mid-spring.
Because it comes on May 1, May Day is always celebrated while the Sun is in Taurus--that's Taurus time every year.
A few years ago, with no construction paper on hand and a late morning doctor's appointment, my May Day celebration took the form of an afternoon visit to one of my favorite places, the Morton Arboretum.
It turned out to be a perfect choice, as the weather was just right: 73 degrees and overcast, so not too hot. And nearly every spring flower was at the height of its blooming beauty--a perfect Taurus day!
On the west side, hundreds of thousands of daffodils cut great swaths of yellow across the meadows.
Tiny wild violets dotted the grass, and numerous miniscule flowers around several trees gave the appearance of pale lavender snow.
At one of the arboretum's lakes, a row of redbuds in bloom on the shore opposite me colored the center of the lake's surface a soft pink. Everywhere, birds flew and hopped and twittered and chirped as an often robust breeze carried flower scents to my most appreciative nose.
After making my way completely around the lake, more flowering trees in the central meadow near the education center caught my fancy. Five yellow fever magnolias with flowers just having opened upstaged their white magnolia sisters, whose blossoms had begun to brown at the edges and drop from their branches.
More daffodils echoed the yellow magnolias' rich color and rivaled their light but heady scent.
The last part of my wanderings that day took me down a path planted with yet more magnolias and some pink and white tulips that resembled peppermint candy.
Viburnum just starting to flower offered mostly coral buds, with the few that had opened softened to pale peach petals.
And here and there stood peonies, grown tall but not ready to flower. Their fat, tightly wound buds held the promise of future pleasures long after May Day passes.
That's more of the wonder of Taurus: just when you think it can't get any more lush and colorful, you see buds that tell you there's even more on the way…
See my other articles about Taurus:
