I have been hearing a lot of complaints about the weather. People asking 'where is spring?'
It's true that it has been quite a cold, wet and chilly spring thus far, but people it's still spring, really!
Since Monday there has been lots of rain, we set a new daily record for it yesterday, but you know there are compensations.
Two of our shrubs were glowing against the fence yesterday afternoon. Really glowing, gleaming in the grey light, like they were made of glass. They were glorious.
Today as I went past the neighborhood pond the three willows on the bank were dressed in the the freshest green, the strands looking like naiad hair. Seriously beautiful.
And surely I am not the only one who thinks the yellow flowers are singing right now?
Somehow it seems that spring has gotten more important to me the past few years. Last year it was so early and warm and wonderful like being in Italy or something. I thought that was why I loved it so much. But this year although dreary and slow I love it just as much. Does it mean something to love spring more?