It was late April when I came by. As I looked up into that tree top the sunlight was shining through, and at first I thought I must be dreaming. Instead of buds, I saw what seemed like lighted candles, each with a silken frill, like the recurved petals of an iris, below the tip of flame I had never seen a tree thus illuminated, and the sight was enchanting. The warm spring air had brought out the hickory buds, with those of other trees, and while I was looking for flowers on the ground, the buds above had swollen, cast off the winter covers, revealing the silky inner wrappings of the young shoots. The rich downward-curving "petals" were only the inner scales of the great buds, grown long and wide, their vivid orange setting off the compact yellow buds that still stood erect... I had never seen a hickory tree opening its iris-like buds before, but I have never missed it since. From Chapter 1]