I don’t love rain, or snow, or really anything but sun, but today the rain feels like an engraved invite to flowers everywhere to come on up and strike a pose. And well, is there anything better than flowers doing their thing? It’s like a natural art. It’s like you’re in a living breathing museum while you’re just walking down the street (no parking fee, no admission tickets, no crowds). Awe, look at the hordes of tiny crocus, announcing to the flower kingdom that the time has come. And by the way, how about the badassery of the crocus–those guys were totally accosted by the snow last week, all “C’mon, you’re kidding me, already,” but they stood strong and made it through the storm.
When you slow down enough to think about nature and its instinctive ability, it practically could knock you off your office chair. Today I’m grateful for the water dripping from the sky. Despite the fact that I will have bad hair all day, it will help our common gardens grow and that will make the world, as cuckoo clock crazy as it is right now, at least look better.