Grateful for the showers today. The earth is damp, the plants are pumping water up their growing stalks.
Of course, you can never keep everyone satisfied. Yesterday, two clumps of daffodils exploded in color. One of them decided that the rain was just too much. The flowers are leaning hard under the weight of all that rain.
You really cannot please them all. Nor should you despair when those you'd think would be reaping this season's rewards turn out to wilt at the slightest setback.
I know someone who is thinking about getting chickens, except she has this (warranted) fear that it will be a constant struggle to keep them safe from predators. I know another person who is embarking on gardening, though visions of a failed crop are holding her back. I can only nod my head in sympathy. Plunging into greater involvement with nature is humbling. No matter how experienced you are. We've had chickens for nearly a dozen years and I've been growing perennials for nearly forty years and in the case of perennials, we're talking massive plantings of huge flower beds. Yet, the coop gets raided (we lost a pullet just last summer), and ask me in September how I feel about the strength of my flower beds! Each season nature shows me who's boss and how, despite all my efforts, readings, instincts, copying of masters, I still manage to botch things, to lose control, to be outwitted by an unanticipated menace. Ed would agree. His tomato project always starts strong and then... well, sometimes it stays strong, other years it withers.
Still, we keep on trying. We never assume that we will achieve perfection or even anything near what we would imagine as grand. We expect a fair amount of failure. We're not scared off by it. We adjust and try again the next year.
In the meantime, the rain comes down and we wait to see what's next.
Snowdrop is here after school. It's definitely not a beach day or even a farmette outdoor play day.
(That pot of flowers may add color for now, but do notice that the crab apple buds will soon offer some competition!)
(another source of color? the Venice umbrella!)
But since it is Earth Day, I bring out some reading stuff that's easy on my eyes (meaning she can handle it herself), and fitting for this important day where the natural world nudges us to take note and take care with all that grows around us. Books about plants. About butterflies.
Evening. The rain stops. We are anticipating the second and perhaps the last beautiful day of April tomorrow. Since April has been stingy with the warm sunshine this year, we get excited with its fleeting appearance. It's like living in Scotland, except without the sheep and the whisky. On the bonnie bonnie banks of Lake Monona.
