‘MORE MATTER FOR A MAY MORNING” ~ Shakespeare, from Twelfth Night
I thought that spring must last forevermore, For I was young and loved, and it was May. ~ Vera Brittain
MAY IS…
A gentle, cool breeze on a bright sunny day.
Birds frolicking and chirping away. The audobonic* song continuing despite Sandy-the-family-dog’s gruffest orders to cease and desist.
Sandy finally admitting defeat and sprawling out in the shade.
Plopping seedlings left and right into warm, black, nutrient-rich soil – where they will find a home and spread their roots to grow.
Tiny, green weed seedlings coming right out of their moist hiding places with just a quick pinch. Better get ’em now!
Aspen leaves fluttering as their branches sway rhythmically under the pure, blue sky.
Emerald-green grass inviting me to come and sit for tea.
Busy little ants building their cities.
Expanding perennials and flowering annuals.
Look at all the hibiscus buds!
“Pruning is for your own good,” I console the shrubbery.
Hollyhocks insisting on their right to procreate. There is way too much hollyhock tom-foolery going on in my garden!
Neighbor kids filling the air with the noise of life.
The neighbor’s cat being somehow unable to pull his fat behind back over the fence to home unless Sandy is charging him. A lesson in the importance of vision. It is energizing.
Five pieces of bright-white paper lined up just so on the kitchen counter for making lists as I go. Gardening to do before I leave for Springfield, gardening for Dave to do while I am gone, gardening to do when I return…etc. I love lists! Did I mention that?
May is kinda perfect. Especially this particular morning in May.
Is it so small a thing,
To have enjoy’d the sun,
To have lived light in the spring,
To have loved, to have thought, to have done?
Matthew Arnold
“Springs’ last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet
Pauses a moment with white, twinkling feet
And golden locks in breezy play
Half teasing, half tender, to repeat Her song of ‘May.'”
~ Susan Coolidge
Oh! That we two were Maying down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with violets playing,
In the shade of the whispering trees. ~ Charles Kingsley, from Saint’s Tragedy
NOTE: “It’s a morning in May,” is a line from the Three Dog Night song, “Pieces of April.”
ANOTHER NOTE: {I could be mistaken, but I think I just invented the word Audubonic. Audubon Society conserves and nurtures natural ecosystems particularly with regard to birds, and harmonic is a musical term – oh yeah, baby, let’s get this in the dictionary!}
PHOTOS BY STORMIE: a couple of days ago, in the backyard.