I walked Reggie early this morning, in the respite between yesterday’s and this afternoon’s rain. The local lilacs are only thinking about blooming, their buds tightly closed against chilly mornings and soggy afternoons. Unlike the golden trove I enjoyed this past weekend in Newton, my neighbor’s sprawling forsythia hedge in Keene hasn’t bloomed yet, although its buds are steadily yellowing like a smoldering fire. Isn’t it funny that such a fiery flower will erupt from a world so wet?
%d bloggers like this: