Lady Spring

She is bursting forth in our garden. I peek out the window while doing inside chores, just to see the yellows and purples and reds and whites. It is perfect. All abloom and I have done very little, save for blessing the rain and welcoming it with open arms. Even Lady Spring has welcomed the rain, her mossy hairpiece amid the camellias.

I can be seen daily, squinting at the small leaves busting out of bare branches, coaxing life from the dormant fig fingers. Grow, everyone, grow.