I can’t explain the joy I feel just walking around at the moment with everything in full bloom. The hope and promise of death and rebirth fulfilled.
My eyes scanning back and forth and back again for each and every bursts of colour no matter how surreptitiously hidden it may be , no matter how tiny. Each pretty little face peeping out, popping through, looking towards me shouting out to be seen and admired.
I love all times of the year because each has it’s own undying splendour to enjoy. But there is something about spring and all the flowers that feeds my souls inner rainbow. My need for colour coupled with my awe of every one of nature works of art makes this one of my favourite times of the year.
Even in the quite often grey that is Britain or perhaps because of it, the colour blows, every year. I miss it on all those gloomy spectrum-less day, which is quite a bit of winter too. So for me spring somehow annually sates my souls need for colour.
I plant as many flowers wherever I live because I realise that I love to spend time looking at them, willing and waiting for them to grow. Each tiny petal and expectant bud brings me joy pure and simple.