A Meng Haoran Moment

The weather this spring is uncharacteristic. Warm one day, cold and rainy the next. The temperture was about 42°F/6°C when I went to bed.

I slept through the rain last night. This morning the buffeted iris plants and the tulips flagged, and rose petals wasfted down in heaps on the green lawn. Buoyed by the respite from the night's rain, birds chirped and tweeted.

Looking out the bedroom window on this new morn, I undulated briefly in the reverie of a Meng Haoran's [夜來風雨聲,花落知多少] moment.