Welcome to May. As the saying goes, "April snowstorms bring May rainstorms." Or something like that. It is, of course, raining, but the gray sky sure does make the beginnings of green so vivid. I read something about a person who travels or lives far from where they grew up/consider home and the way they can never shake a looming feeling of waiting. "Like being perpetually pregnant." That's how they described it. I don't feel like that (though I think I did when I lived in Utah). This green country, where hills and water flow freely, is so comfortably home to me. Maybe I've been sheltered. I definitely haven't experienced a whole lot of anything else. But I feel some sort of belonging here. Despite the drawbacks and the sacrifices we made to be here, I'm glad we are. Especially as May commences and the leaves begin to unfurl. I just watched Mr. Blue Heron walk along the East side of the pond. He feels like he belongs here too, I'm sure. He fits so beautifully in the landscape.
It's hard to fathom the existence of a world more lovely or breathtaking than this one. I guess it wouldn't have mosquitoes or prickers. I can't imagine what it would have, though. I don't even really want to imagine. I just like it here. I'm glad you're here with me. I'm glad you're anywhere with me.
Love, Your Lady
