Sunday, March 9, 2008


Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm still alive underneath this shroud
Rain Rain Rain
(Patty Griffin Rain)

Our first rain of the year. A nice solid rain that started as a heavy mist and got bigger. The lights at the park cast orange puddles of light that Duncan and I hurried through, darkness to orange, darkness to orange. It's still warm out though and my hoodie, despite turning damp, kept me warm. It's been a rough week and I feel tired down through my bones but this rain, this beautiful mist, felt good on my face, running down through my hair and into my ears. The snow is washing away, if only for awhile, and I know Spring is coming. Spring with my dog, walking the trails we've discovered in the mountains. Spring with the flowers and the little birds hopping madly from bouncing branch to bouncing branch. Spring smell in my open windows, and the sound of the night rain on the grass. I survive winter solely for the joy of the rain, for splashing with Duncan in puddles and not caring if our feet get wet. For feeling my tired heart burst open at all the beauty in the world and Duncan, at my side, a kind of shroud, leading me from darkness to joy, guiding me to the rediscovery of the world.

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