Yesterday was a day of nearly constant rain. The rain was intense at times and gentle but persistant the rest of the time. It was the kind of rain that promises a swelling of plant life with the next day's sunshine as encouragement. Today that sunshine delivered its promise and the landscape in my little corner of the world was bursting with a green abundance that only happens at this time of year when the leaves are all new and the grass is swollen with a succulent verdancy unmatched at any other time of year.
While out cutting the grass today, I was nearly struck senseless with the intensity of the green surrounding me. All the bushes are in full leaf, the trees have their freshest batch of fat new foliage, the grass is so thick and soft that it fairly begs you to wallow in its cushiony softness. Add to the visual delight the musky sweet smell of newly cut grass and you are on your way to what heaven must be.
If only we could bottle these sensations to be saved for the inevitable days of hot and dry late July. But like all other good things in life, they can only be experienced in the immediacy of the moment. That immediacy makes the sensory high all the more precious for its fleet passing. Knowing that the verdant green of the springtime abundance will begin to fade all too soon helps to etch the memory more deeply in our memory bank so that when those less amenable days inevitably occur we can recall those sensations and have reason to hope.
And hope is a good thing.