Today it rained. After a week or two of sunny balmy San Diego weather, April gathered its grey overcast coat and sent down fog, mist, drizzle, and a scattering of showers that seemed to proclaim, yes, it is still spring, not summer. The oddities of the seasonal changes rested, at least for a day, and here on my end of the Cape, the sky is grey, the wind is a quiet roar, and the railings are dripping with cold droplets. In the month of summer, I listened to various advice and did not plant, even though I knew sweet peas ought to in before St. Patrick’s Day. Wait until Memorial Day. It reached sixty-five. It reached seventy. Finally I put Explorer and Watermelon sweet pea seeds in the ground on Friday. I got plants over the weekend and put them out: cilantro; lavender, both provence and hidcote; lemon thyme; plus a ranunculus named Bloomingdale’s. I kept the basil inside,as I was advised. Good thing, as you know, it rained, April returned.
The Waste Land Part I – The Burial of the Dead by T. S. Eliot – Poetry Archive.
Duende by Tracy K. Smith : The Poetry Foundation.
P.S. Today is Earth Day. Tomorrow is Shakespeare’s.
Sonnet XVIII: Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day? by William Shakespeare : The Poetry Foundation.
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