So many gray days, no blue peeping between the clouds, and then – a day of light, fluffy white clouds drifting through a blue sky and my desperate dreams of primroses and crocuses become a reality. I love planning the planting, eager to weed out the weeds and feel the soil move as I prepare it for bright and varied colors and kinds.
Though I can do so little to make this happen I will enjoy doing what I am able to do. I will enjoy teaching my grandchildren to do things for me, and it will still be my garden. I think of myself as author, producer and director. But what if it rains every weekend until June? It won’t. It can’t. After rain there is always sunshine and clouds for dreaming and trees adding leaves. It’s spring and my garden will grow and it will be watered and fed, and after the rains I will sit on the back porch and saturate my soul with sunshine and flowers.
After the rain.
melodynamic 