Tucked beneath taller trees they tilt and twist out and up toward the sun. Their namesake buds burst open in mid-April and if the weather cooperates endure into May.
Four years ago a large redbud on the trail I walk blew over in an early spring storm. Its buds, already out, formed a wall of pink from the ground up. A tendril of root remained anchored to the ground. Each year fewer buds push out. This year on branches sprouting from the downed trunk only a splatter of color paint the dark border of the woods where the redbud fell.