The fields have become vast stretches of Kelly green again, creating a background, framing the brilliant yellow daffodils, the cherry pink blossoms and white Bradford Pear trees. It’s as though huge hands have framed a piece of art by an Impressionist.
A week before-the-five-day-rain, brilliant colors of early blooming flowers and trees, perked up the nearly undressed forests and sleeping farmland. An image of encouragement appears, that the blossoms are seeking the artist’s brush to continue coloring the earth, fulfilling a partnership.
It seemed as though the ground was waiting for a splash of water to bring it to life (it got a bucketful instead) to make it smile just as I suddenly become content quenching a thirst after a dry run.
This week Van Gogh comes to mind as splotches of amethyst appear in the pastures. I’m seeing what his talent recreated on canvas for us to enjoy all winter. In spring we can see the original.
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