It is that time of year.
Actually, it was that time of year a few weeks ago when the snow melted here in Burlington, but I couldn't get myself to rummage through the garage for the step ladder until this weekend.
So it wasn't until this weekend that I clamped my teeth around a screwdriver as I climbed up to reconnect my rain barrel. I had to angle the over-flow spout through the trellis and away from the house. I had to carefully screw the eavestrough to the plastic downspout that leads to my rain barrel. I had to then carefully thread twine around the downspout and through the rose trellis so a summer gust won't move the pipe from the rain barrel opening.
And today it rained. It rained a lot.
I walked out to the garden three times just to smile at my seeds (well, I smiled at the dirt and mulch ontop of the seeds). I made excuses to my husband about taking out the compost. I did it several times. I listened to the rain echoing inside my rain barrel. The sound of promise. The sound of frugality and of eco-friendliness. The sound of planning ahead.
And then a few hours later, the same echoey sound. Which is wierd, I thought as I stood in the twilight and looked at my rain barrel that should have been close to full now. I was contemplating adding a second rain barrel next to the first so I could catch its overflow. But there was no overflow today.
Then I realized what I'd forgotten to do.
Which you must not forget to do.
In case it rains in your back yard.
And you dream about the rain you're collecting. For your garden.
But you're not.
Because you didn't close the spout.
~Miss Greenish Thumb~