SpRiNg Day 1

~ crocus ~

In case you've been living in a cave...today is the first day of SpRiNG! I don't care the weather MAN (because even a hormonal woman wouldn't call for snow after the winter we've had) is calling for snow next Tuesday...today is this Tuesday and it's not snowing! The sun is shining, has been all day, and the wind is brisk but it is NoT SnOwINg! Reason to celebrate, pass the Harp. (Did you get it? huh huh Did you get it??? Oh all right...Harp is a very fine Irish brew and this close to St. Patrick's Day and beautiful heavenly weather...now do you get it??? ROTFLOL but I'm a simple soul. The harp is also a national symbol of Ireland.)

~ last week ~

I changed the header photo and it's not the most wonderful but it's NoT sNoW or iCe so it's beautiful! Why, yes, I am a bit giddy; how can you tell? 

~ my home place ~

Dori asked on this post, what were those little buds, peeping through the snow. They are crocus and in the first photo, they have braved the snow, ice, cold temps and wind to open. God bless 'em! 

~ best buds ~

"Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.

Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
Toand fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.

Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bath a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.

Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand."
~ William Butler Yeats ~ 

and sung by Lorenna McKennit, here

One day, every tear will be wiped from our eyes; there'll be no more crying, no more death, no more weeping, no more sighing, no more pain. 

Blessings ~ Yeats ~ McKennit ~ my best buds ~ crocus ~ my home place ~ spring ~