Have you ever walked in an early-morning garden after the rain?
It’s dark, fresh, cool. And quiet. Even the birds are still taking cover.
You squint at something pink in the darkness….
… ah, columbines. And you think how wise this first clematis bloom is, so nicely sheltered against a wall.
You’re lost in admiring this flowering shrub.
Its branches are so rain-heavy, they’re almost touching the ground.
You’re wearing sensible shoes, so your feet don’t get wet. But next thing you know, you brush against a wet branch.
Turning away, you almost collide with a horse.
Your hair, face, nose and shirt get wet.
But the air is cool on your skin. Fresh and earthy to the breath.
And one intrepid bird starts to sing.
You softly walk around in the dark garden, thankful to be alive.
To hear, see, feel, smell, almost touch this morning.
And to take a few pictures, even though you once failed photography.
Dedicated to all early risers, including my beloved husband who takes care of our garden and takes much better photos than these.