(Click here for musica and then come right back)
There is an untouched, almost virginal quality about "The pale primroses, that die unmarried." There is a green tinge in the sunny yellows that gives them an almost celestial look.
With green crinkled leaves . . . so cool to the touch, and shy little clumps, they are to be found . . . not in the full glare of the sun . . . but huddled together . . .
in quiet . . . and solitary places.
The perfume of the primrose cannot be put into words . . . it is as fresh as wet earth, but faint and elusive. It does not impugn the nostrils . . . like a whiff of Parisian perfume . . . but is an almost divine exhalation from the very soul of the flower . . . the scent of long lost childhood and the faraway woods of memory . . .
We had a pleasant drive to our friend's in Flint yesterday for the pot luck lunch. What a glorious day it was. The sun shone down upon us and we felt it's warmth . . .
and we had each other . . . our hands meeting between us on the front seat of the car . . .
souls joined in the bliss that was the day unfolding before us . . .
We drove past fields of promises and countless wishes . . .
and memories of daisy chains . . . not forgotten . . .
and the spring snows of blossom-tide . . . everywhere, floating down like flakes, so magical . . .
past fields where workers were feverishly bringing in the last of the leek harvest . . . and freshly furrowed fields waiting to be planted . . . promises of a different kind . . .
Oh, I do so love the springtime . . .
A thought to carry with you through today . . .
ღϠ₡ღ¸.✻´´¯`✻.¸¸.Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ..
As each day comes to us refreshed and anew,
so does my gratitude renew itself daily.
The breaking of the sun over the horizon
is my grateful heart
dawning upon a blessed world.
~Terri Guillemet
✻ღϠ₡ღ✻ (¯`✻´¯)
`*.¸.*✻ღϠ₡ღ¸.✻´´¯`✻.¸¸.Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ..
Baking in The English Kitchen today . . . Blueberry Ribbon Cake . . . so good.
If you are off on your Easter travels today . . . be safe.
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I have a patch of primroses which shocks me with delight every year. Blooming in a patch of bracken at the foot of a hill, they conquer a most inhospitable environment. I wish I could post a photo.
ReplyDeleteGlad you had such a nice day . It would be wonderful to see a field of primroses.
ReplyDeleteI have never seen primroses. It all sounds delightful. Enjoy the day Marie.
ReplyDeleteThey don't come back for me:(
ReplyDeleteI love them..and you love him:)
How lovely Bunny. I wish you could post a photo too! I would love to see them!
ReplyDeletePam, I would love to see a field of them, only ever seen little clumps here and there!
Suze, you will one day, when you come over here!
Monique, they grow wild like weeds over here! xxoo
Your spring observations are like a glimpse of things to come here in a month or so. I can't wait!
ReplyDeleteThere is something so special about spring flowers in the northern hemisphere, with the early bulbs, the bright, clear, vibrant colours after the drabness of the winter landscape and the explosion of blossoms from fruit trees, hedgerows and lilacs. It's so magical. At the moment, the forests are carpeted with wood anemone, strewn like confetti among the trees. ♥ ♥
I've only grown dwarf primula in Australia. We certainly don't get it growing in the wild like it does in the woods here.
You are so right Marie, and I am blessed to have always lived in the Northern Hemisphere. I noticed yesterday that the bluebells are blooming now! I love a walk in a bluebell wood!
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