We have had record summer rains here in South Australia – a welcome relief after a week of bush fires. Officially we have had 45mm so far this month. At home, I have recorded almost sixty millimetres in our front yard. Twenty-eight millimetres on the first day alone!
Sadly, some of my friends get depressed with extended overcast or rainy conditions. (It is a common thing). I just want to hug them.
Me? I get excited. I have been known to frolic in the rain. The moisture in the air allows me to breathe. To me, rain means life. Plants will not grow without water. Animals will not survive without water. We will not survive without water.
Me? I get excited. I have been known to frolic in the rain. The moisture in the air allows me to breathe. To me, rain means life. Plants will not grow without water. Animals will not survive without water. We will not survive without water.
I am sitting at the table, writing this post. The back door is wide open. There is a refreshing breeze playing over my skin. The leaves are rustling. Somewhere, someone has been mowing. The delicious smell of freshly-cut grass is filling my nostrils (thank goodness I am not allergic to pollen!)
I am in heaven – a welcome respite from the dust bowl that is usually our summer down here. I am full of hope. Life is full of promise.
I am in heaven – a welcome respite from the dust bowl that is usually our summer down here. I am full of hope. Life is full of promise.
I could not resist pottering in the garden this morning. I must have looked a sight, covered from head to toe and wearing my big floppy hat in an effort to avoid the sunlight. The antibiotics for the smoke-induced bronchitis warn against exposure to sunlight while taking them. I feel like a vampire – cringing from the sunlight, trying not to explode into flames.
Everywhere around me was new life springing up with the rains. New lemons are budding. Flowers burst, promising more to come. A whole colony of tomatoes have moved in, seemingly overnight. Tiny seedlings of spinach and silverbeet have invaded the garden beds. Self-seeded lavenders are popping up in pots and crevices. I will have a big job in replant all of the seedlings when they are ready to transfer to new homes.
I love the wonders of my garden. Each corner offers new delights and promises of new beginnings.
What delights you?
What delights you?
New Beginnings
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