I'm a new subscriber, and right after I subscribed, I read the latest from David E. Perry's In the Garden of His Imagination, A Glimpse For Downcast Eyes. As I left a comment, I noticed that a reader named Frank connected with the theme of this post, and recommend another similar read - S.E. Reid's Frost to Flood! I think it's so fun when little connections like this happen, and I wanted to let you know that your writing is circulating out there, on people's minds and among people's comments :)
Interesting that this came today. I went for a long bike ride and enjoyed the newly formed, flooded field lakes and the daffodil greens working their way out. You put it very nicely.
This made me think of the daffodil shoots struggling to rise in my front garden. They were an unexpected gift from the previous tenant, and I'm grateful for them every year.
Oh Sally....you capture this season all-too-well; it reminds me of Frederick the mouse storing up sunshine in his winter cave. There are no buds that I can see yet in my suburban garden on the other side of the Sound, just barren branches and cascading drops off every eave in site. e hydrangeas and dogwoods are positively saturated.
I'm grateful for the warmth inside and the hibernation/writing time the season invites, but I imagine with all the outdoor work it entails for you there is much drying out involved. Thank you for helping us PNW'ers keep the faith.
When I find the rain weary, I remember the summer fires and send thanks for the sogginess and the mountain snowpack that just might make for less fires.
I was looking at my mini-peach tree in the greenhouse today, buds getting ready there too. Looking forward to spring after a soggy winter followed by a deep freeze and now sore force winds!
I'm a new subscriber, and right after I subscribed, I read the latest from David E. Perry's In the Garden of His Imagination, A Glimpse For Downcast Eyes. As I left a comment, I noticed that a reader named Frank connected with the theme of this post, and recommend another similar read - S.E. Reid's Frost to Flood! I think it's so fun when little connections like this happen, and I wanted to let you know that your writing is circulating out there, on people's minds and among people's comments :)
Hi Sydney! Hi, S.E.
I too read Frank's note and followed it here.
What a delight to meet like this!
And what a wonderful devotional. Thank you.
Namasté
You may be feeling soggy S.E., but out of the wet came this oh so delicious and delightful literary morsel! Thank you!
Interesting that this came today. I went for a long bike ride and enjoyed the newly formed, flooded field lakes and the daffodil greens working their way out. You put it very nicely.
This made me think of the daffodil shoots struggling to rise in my front garden. They were an unexpected gift from the previous tenant, and I'm grateful for them every year.
Love this. Especially the poem.
Yes those daffodils stand watch and are none too shy! Love the little verse. I think your rain clouds are traveling our way!
Oh Sally....you capture this season all-too-well; it reminds me of Frederick the mouse storing up sunshine in his winter cave. There are no buds that I can see yet in my suburban garden on the other side of the Sound, just barren branches and cascading drops off every eave in site. e hydrangeas and dogwoods are positively saturated.
I'm grateful for the warmth inside and the hibernation/writing time the season invites, but I imagine with all the outdoor work it entails for you there is much drying out involved. Thank you for helping us PNW'ers keep the faith.
When I find the rain weary, I remember the summer fires and send thanks for the sogginess and the mountain snowpack that just might make for less fires.
I was looking at my mini-peach tree in the greenhouse today, buds getting ready there too. Looking forward to spring after a soggy winter followed by a deep freeze and now sore force winds!