There's something about the quietness of a spring rain shower that moves one to introspect. The steady pittering of raindrops through the trees, dropping solemnly from the patio eaves --and the morning stillness of nature and mankind sheltering and awaiting the passing of the rain. It is a respite from the busyness of the world we've created for ourselves and lends us a a time of peaceful reflection and appreciation for things we love.
There are baby robins in my crape myrtle trees this year. Two nests full, to be exact. Even in the rain, the mama robins are chittering about from tree to grass to snatch the worms and bugs seeking refuge from their flooded dens in the ground. This morning is a treat for her, as well as me. A mourning dove croons from somewhere high above in the cover of my towering oak trees --waiting for the rain to stop. She has no chicks to feed. Rain is for rejuvenating.
I am a gardener by nature. I love the feel and the smell of the earth -
especially on days like this. There are still flowers to be planted, but
they will wait this morning. The fruits of my labor revel in this day. My garden is lush and fragrant. It beckons me to
stroll through it.
Rain is for refreshing.
My two German Shepherds have joined me on the patio, lazily watching over their domain. They like when I sit here with them -- lying near my feet and enjoying a scratch or two. When the coolness chases me inside for a sweater and a blanket, they hardly move. An occasional cottontail peeks its nose from under the shed, wondering if the dogs will make chase. They are safe this morning, I am sure. Rain is for resting.
This being the first Monday of a teacher's summer vacation, I'd planned nothing for the day, aside from the piles of laundry, dishes, dust, and clutter accumulated through the school year when a tired spirit and body kept me from attending to them. It's akin to treading water. Teachers understand. Others can't really know how necessary these long breaks are to us. Rain is for renewing. Spirit and body and soul.