I am listening to pelting rain and wind against the window as I type this, wondering what is happening to the bounties of Spring. Rose petals will be scattered about the yard tomorrow because I had hundreds of very mature blooms on the bushes and vines this weekend.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood ;->

I was thinking earlier this evening that at least I'm not in a worry about the spring crops getting mauled out there in the storm as my grandparents might have been.  As most of my ancestors might have been. Though I should be in a worry, for this storm will probably affect the farmers market in the weeks to come if it's as fierce elsewhere as in this valley.

It is a part of my religion to intentionally immerse myself and heighten my awareness of the seasons and the bounties of Nature. But I've always been this way, long before I found a deeply nature-based form of faith. All my life, I've paid great attention to the daily changes in the trees, grasses, gardens, and weather that surrounds me. Some years I am not able to actively participate by planting and nurturing a garden, but the awareness is always there.