This is what I call a “soft” morning. I can see just above my neighbor’s roof, a light film of fog. If I were at Manos Meadows this morning and looked north toward Mr. Beaverson’s blueberry field, I would probably see remnants of fog, streamers of white mist floating above the berry bushes, like wandering spirits.
Rain is the order of the day. In between showers yesterday, I took a look at my rose bushes in back and decided they needed a great deal of help. So, grabbing my trusty pruners, I snipped and pulled out dead stalks, tied up sagging limbs, and when I was finished, the two red rose bushes that are, who knows how many years old, and the beautiful white clematis vine, had a fighting chance to survive against encroaching grass and maple sprouts.
Matt, Dawn and the children brought supper and that was very nice. The conversation of children brightens any meal. Then, just before bedtime, here came more rain. I don’t think grass and leaves could be any greener. I’ve seen some springs that were hot and dry and I’m very thankful this is not one of them. I like the cooler, wetter weather.
Rain is an inspiration to this writer. Yesterday I continued with Moonlight Can Be Murder. Nettie (known as Ned to her friends) saw her lawyer and got her legal question answered, you’ll remember. She and her friends Jackie and Pat decorated her Victorian house for Christmas, and the next day she decided to visit with a person in Ednalee who told her he needed to confess a few things that had been weighing heavily on his mind. Alas, our heroine had, instead of an enlightening conversation, an unpleasant surprise. But then, that’s what mysteries are – one twist after another until at the end, Nettie figures it out.
On this soft morning, with a mourning dove calling somewhere in the back yard, and the maple hanging heavy with wet leaves in the front yard, I am grateful for another spring day and for the hummingbird which only now zipped past the window to investigate a red petunia. It’s another good day to write!
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