For three consecutive nights Thor galloped about the firmament, casting thunderbolts and lightning down on us mere mortals below. In such storms, I like to listen to the music of Wagner's The Valkyries.
By mid-morning yesterday the storms had passed and I went out to see if the deluge of rains had gotten the Leaf River out of its banks yet. The chocolate river looks more like cocoa with cream now, roiling fast past the banks with a white froth, carrying trees along with the current.
Overnight the grass has become emerald green, with a carpet of wildflowers of purple and white and yellow covering the back yard. White irises that have bloomed every spring for 30+ years by a stump in the yard look delicate--but they survived the pounding rain.  Everything seems in a frenzy to bloom and flowers are everywhere, a heady sight.
My azaleas are lush this year; I picked a bouquet of the fuchsia flowers to put on the table. Dogwood, honeysuckle, wisteria, climbing Cherokee rose, Confederate jasmine, gardenia, they re all screaming look at me!  And it's a pleasure to do so.  Butterflies and bees are swarming over them.  Spring peepers are happy in the surfeit of ponds, baby birds are peeping in the trees. Blue sky, bright sunshine--the achingly tender green of another Spring has come once again.
Susil