Rainy day

Raindrops on hosta leaves.

We have an invitation to go to church in a new way, by praying before the new leaves budding through dormant trees or the wobbly flowers by the side of the road pushing through the solid earth. . .  we too can sing with the air we breathe, the sun that shines upon us, the rain that pours down to water the earth. And we can cry with those who are mourning, with the forgotten, with those who are suffering from disease or illness, with the weak, with the imprisoned. We can mourn in the solidarity of compassion but we must live in the hope of new life.

~ Ilia Delio

In the rose bush.

It finally rained here.  Praise the rain!  Praise the rain!  (Borrowing from Joy Harjo again.)  It has been so dry.  Drought dry.

Raindrops on roses (there should be a song about that…).

It took a while for the rain to arrive last night.  We thought it might be passing us by once again, going north or south.  But at some point in the evening, around 8 PM, the rain came pouring and rushing and gushing.  I don’t know if the earth and plants and animals around us sighed with relief, but I did.  I could feel it throughout my entire body.

And on peonies that are ready to pop.

What was drooping has revived.  What was browning is turning green again.  The birds and tree frogs are singing in a joyful way, and I imagine the rest of those who live on this land are enjoying the moisture on their skin or fur or bark.

Looks like the white peonies will bloom first this year.

I am in love with this misty, rainy day, with the moisture, with the raindrops (on roses, on peonies, on leaves, on my face, in my hair), with the coolness that feels like a balm. This day is a poem, in and of itself, writing something soothing that touches the soul.

Green and green and green.

Thank you for dropping by today and joining me on a little rainy day walk.  I’d invite you out for the sunset, but it looks like more rain will be arriving about that time.  The wind has decided to join in.  They say we’ll get gusts up to 50 mph.  That will likely produce some coastal flooding.  However, if you don’t mind the wind and rain and coolness of this day, I’ll meet you out at the Point so we can watch the churning of the waves and blowing of the grasses.

Please be safe, be well, and speak the good words to yourself and to others.

The sage is blooming.

A few of the 10,000 reasons to be happy:  2,006)  Rain! And more rain!  2,007)  The cool richness of this day.  2,008)  Walks in the rain.  2,009)  The blooming and greening and coming alive of all that had gone dormant while it was so dry.  2,010)  The joy that seeps in with the rain and the coolness of this May day.

They returned a couple of weeks ago. This guy was super insistent that I get the feeder out. He flew around my head and right up near my face, letting me know that he was back and he was hungry.