A blog about a life awakened and rejuvenated around Western New York.



It’s been a great run, but I knew the string of gorgeous weather wouldn’t last forever. Highs in the upper seventies, brilliant sunshine and nary a cloud in the sky.

So today it started to rain. Not a massive downpour, but enough of a reminder to say “All good things must come to an end”. Surely, it’s not the end of the world. But I could get used to the former.

I mean, let’s face it. It’s mid-spring and everything seems to be popping. The trees are either blossoming, or dropping their seed. The greenery is in its early finery. The tulips in my gardens are fully grown and wonderful shades of violet and deep purple, reds and yellow, and some colors I don’t even remember planting. We could use the rain.

I haven’t had much time to plan a garden, with other important events taking precedent. But what will be, will be.

It’s rather nice actually, the rain. Misty drizzle in actuality makes a sit on the porch a true happening. I can hear the birds in their hiding spots, still chirping the songs. The woodchucks scurry in and out of the brush in the field across the way, (an attempt to play) but they stay close to the shelter of the foliage. The sound of the soft rain upon the leaves and the porch roof is the most enticing. There’s music in the tympani. This symphony of a Spring shower, stirring the flowers and all things alive. Me, included.

April showers be damned. This May rain rules the day.