Even while the drops of white, churned up seas splash readily and thunderously just inches around them, they sit in postures of ease and restoration.
I turned the air conditioning on in the car yesterday. It was hot enough outside for the breeze to not bring the cool I was looking for. It was the first time I’d had the A.C. on this year.
Signpost - Seasons have shifted!
The milkmaids, those pinkish-white sentries of early spring, are mostly gone. The cute hounds-tongue flowers, with their white centers and purple lace, are now little round pods. The blue-eyed grass here on the hill has lost its petals - the three-chambered capsules, reminiscent of the Iris family, that will hold its seeds is already visible.
This First - the use of the A.C. - makes me think of a Last…
Where was I for the last rain? I remember the last storm that came in as a rather weak one - I was in Santa Barbara, Gaviota State Beach. The winds were strong that night. Slight drizzle, off an on, into the morning. And then done. Maybe it was bigger up here. From what I heard though, not so much. I had been watching, wondering, for the past month. Will this be the last rain?
After all the waiting, the praying, the hope for relief from the heat, the squelching of a destructive fire season, we were blessed with water in abundance. Big storms, starting early in the year, going late, with little respite in between. It was a winter everyone appreciated, both for the water, but also for the grey, the cold, the invitation to rest and restore, to replenish the depleted wells within us.
Of course, the winter was not without its longing - longing for the colors of spring, the warmer, sunnier days of summer. Funny how we can hope for something so much, and then once its here, so easily turn toward the next thing. After all that praying, how mindful of the waters were we really? How much gratitude did we express, each time the sky opened up?
The Last Rain
A gentle one.
Will that be it for now? When will the waters grace our land again? Replenish our souls? Will this be another year of nervous anticipation? Drought? Or will the rain come back, full and plenty…
Thank You Water, for visiting us this year!
I’ll miss you, even as I welcome the blue skies, the hot days.
Even as I turn the A.C. on in the car, the cool breeze an echo of what you brought…