I just thought I'd share the puddles of sunshine that are starting to brighten my garden. They're only a month early, unlike the snowdrops and paperwhites which showed up three months ahead of time. Since I haven't yet cut back the winter's frost damage, they offer such a beautiful contrast.
It's raining today, as it has been for most of the last week, and the forecast calls for it to continue through the end of this week.
I have always found rain depressing, with it's grey, sunless skies, but as a gardener and person living in an area recently designated a natural disaster area because of drought, I welcome it with open arms and invite it to kick back and stay for a while.
It's a nice, steady, but not hard rain and so far the ground is soaking it up happily.
One of the ironies of drought prone areas is that too much of the life giving moisture they need so badly, in too short a time span, can trigger immense damage and destruction.
But enough of that.
Please enjoy with me. . .
- William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.