Friday Poem:Hope Springs

alexander in winter

When we moved here over thirty years ago, it rained so much that we would joke about the aptness of the town’s name (Moyston, geddit?). Since then the area of reliable rainfall has slipped slowly to the South, and cropping is no longer the reliable source of income a farmer would like it to be. Last year there was some winter rain followed by a very dry spring and summer, and crops that were ankle high…This year…well, we are hoping.wet weeds

Oh listen to that rain!
Rain all day, all night,
And farmers out all night
Ploughing and seeding and hoping,
Hoping that this time….
This year more rain,
Crops knee high, thigh high
Brimming and full of grain.
Maybe this year will be
A worthwhile harvest.wet succulent

Here are some rainy garden photos – taken after, not during. I hate cold water on the back of my neck…The middle one shows an impressive lot of seedlings – about half of which are nettles. Luckily my late German friend Regina taught me to appreciate them as food!