For several years not so long ago, I volunteered at Jere Whitson Elementary School, teaching Tennessee history to fourth graders. Covid ended that, but fond memories remain. One of my favorites is making “pioneer salad,” which we did in early April when dandelions were everywhere and redbuds were in full bloom.
I would gather a sack full of dandelion greens from my yard (because I knew they hadn’t been sprayed with poison) and take them to school. Students took turns washing the leaves in a salad spinner, a nifty kitchen gadget many of them had never seen. We found redbud trees on campus and stripped off some of the purple blooms. Then we mixed these two ingredients (no dressing!) together and everyone got a taste.
We called it “pioneer salad” because dandelions provided some of the earliest greens available to 18th Century settlers in these parts after a long, cold winter. The greens are rich in Vitamins, A, C and K, as well as folate. Redbud blossoms are rich in Vitamin C, too, but we added them mainly because they’re sweet and extraordinarily beautiful. Also, what’s more fun than eating a flower?
In case you haven’t noticed—and I contend it’s impossible not to notice unless you never go outside—our redbuds are in full bloom right now. A friend suggested I enjoy them on the stretch of I-40 between Cookeville and Monterey because they grow so abundantly there.
I said no, even though I know she’s right.
Unless there’s no alternative, I resist traveling that stretch of interstate. I’m not emotionally strong enough to be trapped beside or behind or—worst of all–between the countless eighteen-wheelers that climb that steep mountain all day every day. And don’t even get me started about hotshot drivers in their hotshot cars riding my bumper and their horns if I’m not going 90 in the passing lane.
I choose, instead, the scenic route. I hop on Highway 70N—known in Cookeville as good old Spring Steet—and travel to Monterey that way. In terms of time and distance, I’m not convinced this alternative route is any longer. But I’m absolutely convinced it’s a whole lot less stressful. And, yeah, there are redbuds on that stretch of highway, too.
Not as many, though, as on the section of Highway 70—not to be confused with Highway 70N–that runs between Sparta and Crossville. (That stretch of road is sometimes called Crossville Highway. Or Sparta Highway, depending on which direction you’re going.) I travel this road every year about this time because my tax accountant lives atop Bon Air Mountain. The route is so thick with redbuds it almost hurts my eyes to look at them all. An added bonus is Wildcat Falls and the fabulous view from Sunset Rock.
And let’s never forget the hardy redbuds that dot the sheer cliff face at Burgess Falls State Park, one of the most beautiful places on earth this time of year. (Or any time of year.)
But you don’t have to travel to Burgess Falls or Bon Air Mountain or even Monterey to see a plethora of blooming redbud trees. All you have to do is drive around Cookeville. Redbuds adorn the lawn of the Putnam County courthouse. They grow abundantly on the grounds of Capshaw School. And if you’ll make your way east to the City Lake parking lot just off Bridgeway Drive, you’ll spot solitary redbuds peeking out from the not-yet-all-the-way-green woods, their delicate gnarled branches glowing purple.
You might decide to gather a fistful of blossoms and sprinkle them atop a salad of dandelions greens. But don’t wait. Before you know it, those blossoms will have morphed into lovely heart-shaped leaves. The good news is that about the time the redbuds finish, the dogwoods will burst into full bloom.
What a world.
(April 5, 2025)