O western wind, when will thou blow,
the small rain down can rain?
Christ! that my love were in my arms
and I in my bed again!
We're in the middle of a wet stretch. The past few days have been dreary for a number of reasons even beyond the weather. Uncertain finances everywhere. The specter of swine flu--excuse me, H1N1 flu. End-of-semester piles of ungraded, unmarked student work. Other dramas at work. Taking the kids to church a continuing challenge, even a chore. Stella's bus matron, batty and difficult as ever. Bobby's frantic hyper bedtime behavior, draining. A budding romance burst and dropped from the vine, a shower of shed petals in its wake.
But the flowers of May are here. Tonight on the way to the track (during a brief respite from the rain) I put my nose in a peony for the first time this season. It smelled like hope, like sunshine. Yes, the flowers are here. The rains will subside. This is spring. The wind blows from the west again.