There
fell a beautiful clear rain
With
no admixture of fog or snow,
And
this was and no other thing
The
very sign of the start of spring.
Not
the longing of a lover
Nor
the sentiment of starting over,
But
this clear and refreshing rain
Falling
without haste or strain.
Paul Goodman (1911-1972)
Yesterday was unusually warm for late March and
the grass in the courtyard at Merry Mount was a tufted carpet ready for its
first cut of 2017. Dubiously, I pulled
out the mower, prepped it, and with one, two, three is charm pulls of the rope, the disturbing noise of the season
began.
But here on a Sunday morning, Rett, Minnie, and
I sit in the Sun Porch and watch as a clear rain falls on the freshly mown
carpet that seems to turn emerald green before our eyes.
A pair of cardinals flaunts their beauty in
the maple tree and we think we see a slight color emerging on the red bud
tree. A pair of sparrows considers a
dwelling at the downspout,
and alas, the clematis vine shows signs of life. A single daffodil is trying to lift its cup
for fulfillment.
Raindrops keep falling on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes
Will soon be turning red
Crying's not for me 'cause,
I'm never gonna stop the rain
By complaining,
Because I’m free
Nothin’s worrying me.
B.J. Thomas
Life is good.
CPW
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