drop by drop

Well, I’m back in the pueblo and the weather is wet and wild. Yesterday evening there was a brief pause in the downpour, though, and I managed to take a few pictures. (As always, you can click each photo to see a larger version.)

I love the way the raindrops and buds work together, but I need to practise more to get the pictures I really want. A little sunshine might help, too.

The rain has taken its toll of the almond and apricot blossom, but the plum trees are still in tight bud; perhaps by the time they actually flower it’ll be dry enough for the insects to get out and pollinate.

It’s hard to reconcile this solitary damp skeleton with the dither and hum of the linden tree when it is in flower and alive with bees. It’s also hard to reconcile that activity with the fact that this is the tilo from which they make the herbal tea famed for its calming effect.

I wanted a poetry quote to go with the pictures, but it’s grains of sand that keep coming to mind, not raindrops. Never mind, it seems appropriate anyway:

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

 
(From Blake’s Auguries of Innocence).