I took the Dames hiking on Friday at Greenbrier State Park here in Maryland. A day that was misty, damp, mulchy-smelling, and mild. I could almost hear things growing underneath the surface of the earth.
Towards the end of our hike, the sky darkened and let loose a short torrent of rain upon us. It was glorious and reminded me of “There Will Come Soft Rains” , a poem by Sara Teasdale published in 1918. While I wait in anticipation for another lovely spring day in February, enjoy! Hike on!
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.