Monday, 28 March 2011

foreign climes, the smell of rain and going against the superstition.

I unwrap the bunch of rosemary, which I hate to have to buy but my plant has turned up it's toes, and imagine the warm, dusty, fragrant bush it must have been picked from. It rained, just for 5 minutes. It has been a long time since we had a shower and the smell of the rain hitting the earth was pure joy to a gardeners nose. A fleece, disgarded on top of a 5 bar gate as I drove past the horses field. The owner must have gotten too warm & casted a clought before the May is out (it's still in bud here).

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