Forsythias are some of the earliest bloomers. Because they are a shrub rather than a small flower, it’s impossible to miss their explosion of yellow at the start of each spring. They are big plants and they have something to say. That unabashed burst of color heralding the coming of warm sun and lilting birdsong makes me smile. It’s the start of my favorite time of year in Roanoke.

There is a long, wide garden bed that borders the parking lot in Wasena Park. It’s filled with these beautiful plants. You can see it in the distance from the Greenway, like a big yellow train car. Walking every day along the river, I’d gaze at that golden wall with longing. I desperately wanted to take portraits nestled in those shrubs before the blooms passed and the green leaves took over.

And then, Grace and I went for a walk together. And I remembered to bring my camera. And the sky was thick with perfect, creamy clouds that diffused the light and made the forsythias look even brighter. It was just what I’d been hoping for.

Grace is a dear friend - one of the first friends I made in Roanoke, in fact - and a fellow creative. She understood me when I asked, “Can we walk over to that parking lot and take pictures in the bushes?” She saw my vision and said “Of course!” She had not dressed with a photoshoot in mind, and yet I just loved her look. An old denim jacket, her lovely red hair twisted into a ponytail, no makeup. She even wore a beautiful sweater she had knitted with her own two hands. She looked so natural, so effortlessly stylish, and so very herself.

Thank you Grace, for indulging my creative impulses and diving headfirst into a thicket of forsythias. You are a magical friend and a beautiful muse.