Finally, the rains come. I have lost two small fig trees and plenty of periwinkles in this drought. I am inside now – cozy with the rain at the window and the tiny sounds the coffee maker is making. I love this day of healing. I have gotten to a point where rainy days are my friend. Days of long ago, when children were small and needed direction, were difficult in this rain. Old and forgotten toys were brought down from the attic, tent houses were made over the harvest table, cookies baked and spoons were licked as deep breaths were taken (by me). Funny, but in writing these words, I find joy in those magical days of childhood that time has tempered. Anyway, fast forward and here I am in the same old house with a rainy summer day stretched out ahead that belongs to ME! I hope to paint and clean up a room. Yes, a room, not the whole house – my goals are very relaxed these days that I approach 60 – really, who cares?
I think about things and people on these kind of days and feel it is Nature’s ticket to go back and reflect – to slow down to remember and sort. The trees and plants are heavy with moisture and green from the nitrogen; they are happy and so am I. I am rereading The Invisible Garden, my cousin, Glenda’s favorite book, and my head swells with images of Concord grapevines, Ayers Pears and poles of legumes…the biggest garden ever. I strive for this outdoor pantry and hope I can physically do it when I have more TIME. I do despise excuses and I just made one…the TIME is now.