A Quiet Weekend

The Rains Have Passed


   After a week of rain filled days we enter a dry quiet weekend here in the fens, a weekend of bead making and garden jobs face this bead maker, two days that he will enjoy without question, his flame with candles of blue that melt the glass with magical spells and that peaceful garden that lets his mind rest and welcomes his hands to her soil every evening.
   The first salads are being harvested from the kitchen garden and plum and apple are dripping with those tiny fruits, a thousand cherries hang where blossom once stood and young gooseberry swell every day, their fresh leaf so bright and green.
   While rose buds form and lilac flowers show their purple and pink the young are fed by parents at every feeder and table, blackbird, finch and blue tit are busy while still the dove sits on her nest waiting, large clean thrush gather grub and worm and the magic call of the swift fills the evening air as they hunt the wide skies of the east.
   Every drove and dyke is alive with life, every bank holds spring young that face this new world, reed beds hide the nest of warbler, tiny nests that hold those bald blind chicks and ride the fen winds, the first early damselfly and mighty dragons hover the sedge and marshes while fen tigers welcome the warm southern sun on their backs while they work under those giant wide skies.
   A happy land of early summer we see with thoughts of cold winter month now lost and forgotten to old and young, another fresh season starts, another year has passed and once more we face the warm summer that we thought would never arrive.