As was so often the case, the weather birds' predictions were not entirely accurate, for on Sunday morning Algy woke up to heavy showers and thick, wet, totally grey mist, which lasted right up until the middle of the day, instead of the fine, sunny weather which had been forecast.
But in the early afternoon the sky did begin to clear quite rapidly, the sun came out, and the world was suddenly bathed in light. Algy hurried out into the sunshine, then flew over to the wee pond, where he was thrilled to see that everything was looking remarkably lush and green after the rain – in fact so much so that he could barely see the water for the profusion of enthusiastic pond plants that not only covered the surface but in some cases were attempting to climb out of the sides.
Reflecting that things quickly started to get quite chaotic in Nature once spring really got under way, Algy collected a book of verse for some quiet Sunday relaxation, then hopped over to perch beside his friend the old garden Buddha, with the intention of reading to him for a wee while.
Algy had chosen a volume of verse called "The Four Seasons" in the hope of finding a particular poem he had once read, which he felt was especially apposite, but although he searched every page in the section of poems devoted to the spring, the poem he sought was not there.
Slightly disgruntled, Algy wondered whether he could recall the poem sufficiently well to recite it from memory. For a while he pondered, staring at the pond, where he was thrilled to see a distinctive movement among the pond plants on the opposite side which indicated that one of his amphibian friends had returned. Encouraged by this happy observation, Algy then began to speak:
The leaves are fresh after the rain, The air is cool and clear, The sun is shining warm again, The sparrows hopping in the lane Are brisk and full of cheer. And that is why we dance and play, And that is why we sing, Calling out in voices gay, We will not go to school to-day Or learn anything: It is a happy thing, I say, To be alive on such a day.
[Algy is quoting the poem April Showers by the early 20th century Irish writer James Stephens.]
