Nothing Gold...

One more spring.  One more occasion for this poem by Robert Frost to bounce around my head and come out of my mouth like a mantra:

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold
Her early leaf's a flower
But only for an hour
Then leaf subsides to leaf
So Eden sank to grief
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.



This truly is, to me, one of the most beautiful, bittersweet and true poems ever written.  It goes right along with one of my favorite words in the English language:  ephemeral.  The weather is warm, dry and windy.  The tulips are saying their wistful farewells.

Even though they're at their flamboyant peak for only a very short time, it's so very worth it to plant them up here in the harshness of Copperopolis.