Today is my better half's birthday. She is the one who usually knows the names of the wildflowers that I photograph. She also is the lead gleaner in the household. Thus far, one of the few defects of character I've found in her is that she actually enjoys Winter. In fact, according to some reportedly knowledgable sources, enjoying Winter isn't a character defect at all. Hard to believe. Although she's not a native New Englander, her love for the coast and, particularly Cape Cod, rivals mine. She's even accepting and understanding on the times when I show up with a puppy, boat, shotgun or other indulgence claiming it followed me home and asking if I can keep it. It occurred to me that a public acknowledgement of just how important to me, my happiness, and my life she is, is both overdue and entirely in order. Happy Birthday, Honey, and many, many happy returns of the day.
Although it's her birthday, to give you an idea of how generous she is, she's sharing the beginning of a long term warming spell with us as her present to the rest of us. What more could we Winter weary wayfarers ask of anyone? Christina Rosetti nicely describes how I feel today. (We will return to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.)
Back yard berry picking by the Gleaner-in-Chief © harrington
My heart is like a singing birdWhose nest is in a water'd shoot;My heart is like an apple-treeWhose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;My heart is like a rainbow shellThat paddles in a halcyon sea;My heart is gladder than all theseBecause my love is come to me.
Raise me a dais of silk and down;Hang it with vair and purple dyes;Carve it in doves and pomegranates,And peacocks with a hundred eyes;Work it in gold and silver grapes,In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;Because the birthday of my lifeIs come, my love is come to me.
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.