I prefer winter and Fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape — the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show. ~Andrew Wyeth

Saturday, April 25, 2015

The Happiness of Rain


All night I listened.
The rain was outside the open window,
making small consistent sounds that, in this time of drought,
make me feel like one too long away from its soul mate.
In the morning the sky still weighed heavily with dark clouds...
...still filled with moisture... but moving away, across the landscape, to the East.

The Abe Lincoln rose seems to say, "Oh, I've been waiting for you, Rain."
The bush rose, hardier than its neighbor, concurs.

The newly planted Columbine is most happy without the sun and is pleased with the moist, cool morning.
The Basil, a sun lover, is even looking better for the night of rain.

The Kangaroo Paw was not as happy... but it's an Australian native and isn't really happy until Summer arrives.

My garden ladies survived the night. One always looks like I feel with rain on my face...

The other is younger and is never really please with the moisture and what it does to her hair.
She will learn...