Early one morning the sun was shining

by chuckofish

Yesterday I worked in the yard for a little bit because it was too beautiful a day to stay inside. I paid for it though with the sneezing fit it set off. Curses, pollen strikes again!

Meanwhile the iris continue to be insane.

Well, I feel like some Walt Whitman poetry, don’t you? His birthday is a week from today…

Not from successful love alone,

Nor wealth, nor honor’d middle age, nor victories of politics or war;

But as life wanes, and all the turbulent passions calm,

As gorgeous, vapory, silent hues cover the evening sky,

As softness, fulness, rest, suffuse the frame, like freshier, balmier air,

As the days take on a mellower light, and the apple at last hangs

really finish’d and indolent-ripe on the tree,

Then for the teeming quietest, happiest days of all!

The brooding and blissful halcyon days!

“Halcyon Days”

And a toast to brother Bob Dylan, whose birthday is today.

And I will offer in His tent sacrifices with shouts of joy;
I will sing, yes, I will sing praises to the Lord.

Psalm 27:6