Up this morning before the crack of stupid, for what purpose I knew not, or, er, not initially. Yet, I admit it became clearer as the morning rolled along. I am a total sap. Romantic to my very core, as well as idealistic, and I fall hard for stories of TrUuuueee LOoove.
Watching all the fabulous hats and men in shiny spats parading down the cobbled streets against a backdrop of jolly old England, are you kidding me? Stop my beating heart, right in its cynical tracks.
Love and the many paths that love can take us down, and that powerful sermon from an American tradition somewhat foreign to those auspicious stain glass windows of St. Georges Chapel, and a couple hours of all that and I’m a wet noodle.
“My beloved speaks and says to me: ‘Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone’.” from the Song Of Solomon
Over the pond, it was a lovely spring day, full of sunshine and Union Jack flags blowing in the gentle breeze.
Here in Canada, however, as the morning broke the rain continued, as did the liquid from my eyes, I admit. Then a break in the clouds, and the wedding had ended, and out I ventured across the way for a few Yellow Snapdragons and a couple of neat red brocade-leaf Geraniums, to make up a colourful container with. Mom loved Geraniums, and watching the tears of joy in Meghan’s mom’s eyes made me think of my own.
So that was my morning. True love and dewy-eyed smiles, as I watched the beautiful history making wedding, of traditions intermingled.
Anywho, my happy woodlanders do love a nice rain, and so do I.
for the WPC :: liquid
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