Rainy Days are Here Again!

If you are like me and have forgotten what rain looks like, click on the video. (This is my first attempt at uploading a video, so I hope it works!)

I know it's hard to tell from the video, but we have had a steady rain since late morning today. I don't even need to search through my archive of labels to know that every other time I have discussed the rain it's been to complain about it. But not today--after weeks, it seems, of dry weather, I welcome it with open arms. Right now it is falling gently, and the trees and flowers are soaking it up eagerly.

The coral bells are enjoying their shower (click on the picture to enlarge to see the raindrops), along with the other flowers in the shade garden. Watering with a hose just doesn't feel the same to them.

Besides knowing the plants are getting some much needed moisture, I am happy the ground is going to be soft and easy to work with once again. I have a few new plants to put in the ground yet before the cold hits us, including this bargain "Limelight" hydrangea I bought last week. (Yes, I had to go back to buy this one . . .it was too good a deal to pass up.)

I know it's not a very good picture, but I was getting drenched by this time and didn't have the patience to check my camera. I intended to plant it Saturday, but the ground was so hard, I was afraid I would break my spade! Besides this hydrangea and a few other plants, I have so many bulbs to plant. After two different shopping trips to buy bulbs, my first order came in the mail over the weekend and another one is on its way. More rain is in the forecast for tomorrow, which means by the time I have time to plant, the soil should be perfect, I hope.

I hope you are having a beautiful rainy day, too!

Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
- Langston Hughes, April Rain Song


Rain is grace; rain is the sky condescending to the earth;
without rain, there would be no life.
--John Updike

Rainy Day Blues

Rain

I opened my eyes

And looked up at the rain,

And it dripped in my head

And flowed into my brain,

And all that I hear as I lie in my bed

Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,

I walk very slow,

I can't do a handstand--

I might overflow,

So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said,

I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

---Shel Silverstein

The muse has left me.
I have been blogging for a month now, and I have nothing new to say.

Earlier this week I posted a blog about all the green beginning to emerge in my garden. Excited by the promise of spring blooms and encouraged by the warm, sunny weather, I spent two days raking, cleaning up my large porch planter, and transporting several loads of leaves and dirt to the compost pile. But then my body said, "Enough!" I retreated to my couch the rest of the day, feeling sorry for myself that my youthful spirit and mind are housed in this tired, middle-aged body.

Then the rains came. The wind blew. And blew.

I became preoccupied with other necessary chores--running errands, long-overdue cleaning projects, and even working at a "real" job for a day. Somewhere in the midst of all this my muse retreated into unknown regions. I began surfing blogsites, vicariously enjoying the blossoms and wildlife others were seeing outside their windows. I enjoyed virtual travel to far-off places, from Guatemala to Italy to the United Kingdom (my personal favorite for a visit outside the U.S.).

I looked outside my window for an inspiration, something I could share with my new blogging friends. The daffodils were already blooming, but several were bowed over from the struggle to survive the strong winds. The hyacinths were emerging from their nesting places, but the rain kept me from photographing them. The lilac bush and the crabapple trees were beginning to bud, but freezing temperatures are predicted this weekend. And so I began to worry--will they survive the freeze or will they fail to bloom like last year? And another worry--my front yard is littered with shingles, the result of the storms and winds the last few days. Sigh. Looks like I'll be getting a new roof soon instead of the new carpeting I have been waiting for so long.

And still there is nothing new to say.

Please forgive my sounds of self-pity: it must be the rain inside my head. I think I'll just wait it out and go take a nap instead.

Sasha pleads, "Won't you let me in out of the rain?" (I did.)