Can’t remember if I was told this or put two and something else together, but come March the paperbark are flowering, with a similar or same name as a fish running in nearby ocean—place even named similarly—ready to be caught and cooked wrapped in the papery bark. Anyway, they’re flowering again, big and light-yellowy bold, almost white, like big Christmas trees with countless lights—whether on nearby streets or at the lake—the lake where there’s also one or two with red flowers, deeper and darker, almost like a bottlebrush, throwing the whole thing into sudden contrast. It seems sudden because I’ve been away for a week. And I know by the time I am back from another few days away they will again be past their peak. All decorations eventually need to be taken down.