Recycled All.

Buckets of rain,
Buckets of tears,
Got all them buckets comin' out of my ears.
Buckets of moonbeams in my hand...

(Well, he got the buckets of rain part right, but I'm still waitin' on the moonbeams.)
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I listened to Bob Dylan's music pretty consistently my junior year of college. I was only an occasional e-mailer, but I sent John this journal scrap via email one day:

th' fancied hair, th' beer-man's lair, th' frowner's stare, th' electric glare of tangerine lights on desperate nights when all y' need is a little fresh air....
and just one leftover cowboy from a lost time.

And people say the music they listen to doesn't influence them....pfffft.
As anyone can deduce, that particular night the cowboy's life called, and I longed for the engulfing darkness of a country night. (Houghton was beautiful country, but even if you walked until your legs ached, you couldn't escape the orange umbrella of distant college lights.)
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Back to rain...
God has given our garden the ideal weather the past week-- not the most pleasant for heat-sensitive humans, but ideal for plants. I've never seen green shoot up so fast. Three and a half days after sowing seeds, all the beans, yellow squash, zucchini, and pumpkins have not only poked their wee heads out of the ground but many have also tossed their little, seedshell caps and are stretching over three inches high! Now, those of you who coaxed indoor seedlings during snowfall and those who sowed seed a month ago may not be impressed by three inch heights, but remember, this occurred in three and a half days!
I've looked at the plants several times already today, almost heady with their growth.

A 2' x 2' section of sweet peppers is also home to Ant Suburbia. They've erected at least eleven neat, tidy, identical homes in the last few days. I suppose John felled their skyscraper when he tilled, and now they dutifully work from scratch.
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Well, I've nothing to write, I just needed to drain some excitement over this gift of green and growing in order to unwind enough for a walk to Morpheus. (And here's a version for all you hipsters-- all two of you...)
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Give thanks to the Giver of rain and heat and sweet, sound sleep.
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