Colors of spring

Spring this year hasn't really sprung.

Winter clothes are still necessary unlike last year when we already had some hot weather. Even though I prefer anything to the heat of summer, a little spring would not go amiss.

There is hope.

There is that special smell of mud or rather wet earth that smells differently then it does during any other season...that e.e. cummings wrote about and called mud-luscious.

in Just-

spring          when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles          far          and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far          and             wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's

spring

and

         the

                  goat-footed

balloonMan          whistles

far

and

wee

Instead of playing hop-scotch or jump-rope I want to be outside -- thus yesterday between rain showers I walked to the next village mainly to see the pink flowers I love and the field of yellow rapeseed up close.

It's my version of jump-rope, marbles, etc.

I can't tell you what the pink flowers are. Rick teases me that my character Annie in my mystery novels never names flowers when all my other details are so precise. "She doesn't know what they are," I tell him.

"Just like you," he says.

If Shakespeare can write, "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," I don't have to name flowers in my writing not that I'm comparing myself as a writer to him. No one will be reading my works in 400 years nor will they argue who really wrote my books. They'll be forgotten, which is okay: I just consider myself terribly, terribly lucky to have been published and I suppose I can say I've been known for two centuries considering I was published in both the 20th and 21st centuries. Okay, that's pushing it a bit, I know.

Then when I got to the village of Collonge, I spied another flower in one of the planters near the fountain. This orange bloom stood straight up with attitude. Go girl, I thought.

Granted we've had gray and misty days for too long, and there's been enough rain to make my world more than puddle wonderful but all this colour makes my eyes happy and my soul sing.