In praise of Spring - from Lorna Doone

"The valley into which I gazed was fair with early promise, having shelter from the wind, and taking all the sunshine.  The willow-bushes over the stream hung as if they were angling, with tasselled floats of gold and silver, bursting like a pea-pod.  Between them came the water laughing, like a maid at her own dancing, and spread with that young blue that never lives beyond April.  And on either bank, the meadow ruffled, as the breeze came by, opening (through new tufts of green) daisy bud or celandine, or a shy glimpse now and then of the love-lorn primrose.

Though I am so blank of wit, or perhaps for that same reason, these little things come and dwell with me; and I am happy about them, and long for nothing better.  I feel with every blade of grass, as if it had a history; and make a child of every bud, as though it knew and loved me.  And being so, they seem to tell me of my own oblivions, how I am no more than they, except in self-importance."

I hope like me, my readers this weekend will get both some sunshine and unspoiled countryside to enjoy!