I’m in the country in a very fine house and it’s raining to beat the band. Seriously, the heavens have opened up and are trying to dump all the water in the world right on top of us.

Bought a new bird feeder. It’s designed to defeat house sparrows and squirrels. The food in the new feeder sits in a tube surrounded by wire mesh that slides down when something heavy hangs on it.

No sooner did I speak of it than it happened. The rock rose bloomed. Once upon a time it was ensconced beneath a young crape myrtle growing in a tiny little garden spot by the front porch.

I’m a sucker for blooms. Big, small, in between. It makes no difference. I love flowers.

Life. A tenacious beast. Last week I watched a turtle lay eggs in a field along a fairway on a golf course. She was pretty exposed, but there was a fence so I’m guessing it would have been hard to really disturb her.

Good morning from the dark side of dawn. I’ve missed two days.

It happened again. Dire warnings. Flashes in the sky. No rain. Not even thunder. There’s drizzle this morning. That’s good. But no drenching downpour. That’s good, too, actually.

I think we’re in the year of the near miss storm. My phone was alive with alerts yesterday. The sky was alive with lightning and thunder. We heard the booms; we heard the bangs.

It appears I may have finally dissuaded a pair of swallows from breeding in my garage. Of course, the garage has all manner of bird control devices in it and it’s scented with peppermint spray, but it’s a fair trade from being covered in swallow poop.

The grass in the pasture is a light spring green, and the trees are fully leafed. The recent rains did well by us, and all the plants seem happy.

Had a good day yesterday. And I know, it seems as though I’m having a lot of good days recently, because I am. So, maybe I should stop referring to all the good days as good days and just get on with it.

I play Wordle. I love it. My opening word is alone. It has three vowels and four of the top ten letters. It works pretty well most days. But I got to wondering this morning why I picked it. Alone.

A front blew through, the air chilled, and all my trees have leafed out. It’s canopy time for my yard. That’s nice. My little trees are juveniles.

Sun damage. A lifetime of it. Had a chunk of my hand dug out on Friday. That was followed by freezer burns to about six or seven spots on my face. I actually lost count as the doctor spritzed.

Woke up to a wet driveway. That’s a good sign and it looks as though there’s a good chance of rain everyday this week. That, too, is a good sign.

As I mentioned, there was a hint of rain yesterday. It fell as a fine mist. A light kiss on the cheek from Mother Nature who apparently had other business to attend and left us without appreciable moisture.

The cleaning continues. Pharaby’s rose at the east end of the house was getting choked by the Orchid Tree and the Yaupon Holly. I pushed them both back and trimmed up the rose. It should get a bit more sun, but we’ll see how it goes.

The spiderworts must have heard all the blooming noise the bluebonnets made. They’ve decided to start coming up. They’re a nice springtime delicacy. Purple flower and yellow stamens.

Woke up to lightning and thunder, way off in the distance. Checked the weather radar and sure enough a storm may touch us. May. You know how weather goes.

Had a metaphysical experience in Big Bend last week. On our first day in the park, we were driving around looking at the sights. There were four of us in the truck. I saw a display sign, the sort they have all throughout the park, and asked to stop. The driver obliged.