Rain. Cats. Rain. Drip.

 "I must go see some dew drops here, and hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear." (Shakespeare)

    A lull in the every present rain. Finally. Cordelia, from the hill, checks to see if the coast is clear.............

                    Rain. Rain. Rain. Crocus. Rain. Rain. Mud. Sog. Rain.
                     
 Smokey, two brothers from the hill, tease Cordelia with their presence.Rain. Rain. Drip.

 "Behind the handsome face, and piercing gaze of the cat there is always that tantalizing, inscrutable something, the exotic and secret centre that harks back to an ancient connection. " (D. Taylor)

  Spring. Lots of it. Everywhere. Too early. Go back to sleep. In the mud. In the rain.In the sog. Drip.

  And Cordelia waits for Smokey and Spencer to leave. Hoping for treats. Hoping for the rain to stop.

     And the strawberries have sprung. And the ferns have sproinged. Roses to rise up .

"A little garden in which to walk, an immensity in which to dream, at one's feet that which can be cultivated and plucked......

 overhead that which one can study and meditate upon.......

 Some herbs on earth and all the stars in the sky." (Victor Hugo)
     Spencer  chases Cordelia back home. He thinks he rules the roost. And there is  more rain. More mud. Drip. Drip.
     More cats like Smokey. Yawning at the door. As if to say, he's bored with the rain, and these sleepy grey days.....Drip. Rain. Cats. Drip.Yawnnnnnnn.