"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May."- William Shakespeare
The wind blew mightily all evening long, but when I woke early in the morning to tend to the little dog the air was calm and sweet, - nary a cloud in the sky and the waning moon high at the top of the mountain, readying itself to slip behind into another space. I went back to bed, thinking pleasant thoughts of a day in the Garden.
At six thirty, when I woke once again, rain clouds were dark in the north, and the hills were hidden by a grey mist. But still in the south the sky was blue with only the occasional small white cloud.
The wind was picking up!
At noon there were great blustery gusts of wind as the little dog and I went for a walk before lunch.
One of them bowled him over and I had to help him up in the face of such fierceness and carry him home.
We came in to find the electrical power was off, and so it stayed for three hours, while the new grass in the pasture billowed in great green waves, and the tulips bowed and curtsied and leaned their pretty pinkness into the breezes that whirled around them.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of a smirk on the face of a patch of coutch grass - another day of freedom to spread its wiry roots into the Iris and the Shasta Daisies and along the perimeter of the garden.
I wait patiently for that first day of May when the bees buzz and the flowers lift their faces to the sun,
and all is calm - a perfect gardening day.
"Ah my heart is weary waiting
Waiting for the May"
Denis Florence McCarthy Summer Longings
Tonight the sky cleared and the setting sun cast lovely apricot lights on a few clouds in the East.
The wind still gusted around corners and down the fields.
