Annamaria on Monday
My title today comes from a song by the incomparable Billy Strayhorn.
I am writing on a beautiful Easter Sunday morning, and despite the news reports, I cannot bring myself – with sunlight streaming into the room - to think about, much less write about dark things. There will be time for that another day. This lovely day is for beautiful thoughts.
I love the springtime and flowers especially - joys not even allergy attacks can dispel. Time was that I had an outdoor garden that I loved. I delighted in Saturdays dressed in rags, getting all dirty, digging, planting, and weeding. The result looked like this:
The time for such delights passed, and for ten years now, I have been only an indoor gardener. It's rewards also come in the springtime:
The beautiful city that surrounds me also bursts back to life with the spring:
 |
This year, though, my favorite magnolias (also called tulip trees) budded in a March warm spell. When the temperatures then sank into the low twenties (minus 5C), the promised pink blossoms died:
I feared we would never again see the glories of how they used to look in full bloom:
Mother Nature has, in the past week, now bestowed hope. Lovely green leaves have emerged from the wreckage wrought by climate change:
And hope springs that next year we will have our beauteous sights again.
Listen to Billy Strayhorn's haunting pean to Nature's wondrous gifts. And hope along with me.
