The rain sang a doxology of flowers and what a song it was as it greeted each morning!
Rain has fallen for DAYS. Everything is happy and growing.
I tried to pick out just one morning glory picture to show you, but how could I? It would have been unfair, as I see it, to short change you of these wonders.
Heart shaped leaves… sigh.
Even the spent blooms are beautiful.
And look at the…
Aren’t the raindrops a chorus?
Little golden-hearted Daisy
Told the sun that she felt lazy:
Said the earth was quite too wet,
She thought she wouldn’t open yet.
-Elizabeth Gordon (Flower Children)
It’s the smallness and minutiae that are a wonder.
“Every morning was a cheerful invitation to make my life of equal simplicity, and I may say innocence, with Nature herself. …affected by the faint hum of a mosquito… as I could be by any trumpet that ever sang of fame. …There was something cosmical about it; a standing advertisement, till forbidden, of the everlasting vigor and fertility of the world.” -Henry David Thoreau
This is simplicity. One small hummingbird lost one small feather that see-sawed its way down and rested right here. I fully lived this small moment enjoying Nature herself.
“It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look… To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts.” -Henry David Thoreau
I hope you don’t mind, but you’re going to be subjected to big spoonfuls of the honey that Thoreau had a mind to put to pen. I came across a copy of “Walden” and may have developed an infatuation with a dead person of great eloquence.
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