Damp Dancer

We are getting days of much needed rain. The garden is looking lush, leaves and petals full to bursting; the soil is damp and dark and rich; everything smells wet and tropical and full of life. The old people stay cozy indoors, resting our various limbs and entertaining the cats by being around so much for a change. Now that it's spring, it feels like the winter we didn't have. Daily Savings Time is messing with our minds, but something else is afoot as well. Although the weather is upside down, each flower seems to be appearing at its normal time. How does this work? does every creature contain the memory of its becoming? And who am I then, sitting by the fire and waiting for the rain to stop?