Sunday clouds sigh one last time; windy, chilled skies promise at least one more unseasonably cool rain to soak into sodden lands lying fertile, waiting for the seeds of spring. My son brought my potted plants indoors, and I cautiously hope my lilies outdoors did not freeze... While something me responds to gray, billowy skies, I still have the bonds with flowers forged a long time ago in my grandmothers' gardens. Both were at home in a garden, happy with earth on their hands and hope in mind for future flowers...
Today brings indoor jobs... Laundry, cookies baking for company later on tonight, last tucking away of snippets of Easter, and taco salads waiting in the fridge. I feel separated already from school, and more at home amid the scurry of cloud, rain, and growing things. God whispers calming thoughts in my darkened night, and all feels cautiously optimistic yet strange --- like mercurial lightning, thunder, and storm.
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