Watering can
Spring drew on … and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps. —CHARLOTTE BRONTË, JANE EYRE I JUST LISTENED TO THE SPRING CONCERTO of Vivaldi’s iconic Four Seasons. With the joyful opening herald of spring, followed by sounds of birds singing in celebration, then streams being caressed by gentle breezes, a dark and ominous storm, and a gradual return of the playful birds, I am absolutely invigorated. What I notice, besides the brilliant interpretation of sounds of nature in the piece, is the play of volume and intensity. I’m lulled by a restful chirping serenade, only to be startled by the crashing thunderstorm. And back and forth it goes until…