Seasons turn swiftly in Bangladesh, like some other things. Last week I was enjoying the cool breezes of the end of winter on my skin. Yesterday it was suddenly hot.
In the farm, in just three weeks, the bald trees...
...had turned green...
... with leaves dripping color.
Of course the usual suspects still prowled.
But the bright yellow flowers of fall that had attracted so many critters...
... were gone, the dying plant now busy creating seedlings in place of flowers.
Even the ugly roadside plants...
...jumped into spring by producing pretty flowers.
The creepers of the forest were also out looking for some action.
But the best part of spring were these intensely fragrant Jambura blossoms. Thakur Mohashoi, "Fagune tor aamer boler ghraan" is not nearly as sweet-smelling as these, but somehow "Faguney tor jamburar boler ghraney" does not sound so poetic!
