Spring Dream from Red Cap Cards

April 5, 2018

In the mood to be swept away on a cherry blossom breeze? Spring is here, and we are playing with a dream-like series on our Instagram by the fabulous Carrie Gifford (@carriegiffordphotos), featuring @duartedollhouses that we hope will ignite your imagination! It’s been a long winter for everyone, it seems, and we are ready for the blooms to burst out of the ground and for warm-weather inspiration to come again. Scroll down to view a few pictorials of our Spring Dream series (view more at @redcapcards), and some beautiful art pieces–poetry and photos–that are getting us excited for the coming months. Welcome, Spring!

August Clover by Anna Emilia Laitinen

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

-Robert Frost

“Sage” by Marsha Robinson
August Clover by Anna Emilia Laitinen

march 26

shivering and huddled close
the forever rushing daffodils
wished they had waited

-Julie Fogliano, When Green Becomes Tomatoes: Poems for all Seasons

Art by Julie Morstad, When Green Becomes Tomatoes
Art by Julie Morstad, When Green Becomes Tomatoes


june 10

i don’t know much about flowers
i don’t know their names
or how they like to grow
in sun or shade
in morning or night
i don’t know where they began
or how they traveled
by boat or by bird
and whether or not the rain makes them shiver or bloom
but i know how they lean
and bend toward the light
wide open as if singing
their voices (silent but everywhere)
fill up the daytime
a song much more than purple
and beyond every red
a song that makes me stop and listen
and forget
and not care at all
that i don’t know much 
about flowers

-Julie Fogliano, When Green Becomes Tomatoes: Poems for All Seasons

Photo by Didion’s late daughter, Quintana Roo Dunne

I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring, or the second spring, they were all alike for a while. I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later—because I did not belong there, did not come from there—but when you are twenty-two or twenty-three, you figure that later you will have a high emotional balance, and be able to pay whatever it costs. I still believed in possibilities then, still had the sense, so peculiar to New York, that something extraordinary would happen any minute, any day, any month.

-Joan Didion, Slouching Toward Bethlehem

Spring tablescape by @doan_ly
Spring and summer keeping us warm by @thefarmersdaughterflowers


I think the spring of 1968 is a good
time to look into our blood and
see where our hearts are flowing
as these flowers and vegetables
will look into their hearts every day
and see the sun reflecting like a
great mirror their desire to live
and be beautiful.

-Richard Brautigan, Please Plant This Book

Photo by @rodarte

“…The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves.
The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals;   
They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat,   
And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes
Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.
The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea,
And comes from a country far away as health.” 

-Excerpt from “Tulips” by Sylvia Plath