Clouds, rain and fog are the order of the day. Our oilskins and rubber boots wait by the door, and umbrellas are already blooming like peonies in the darkened street. Tall trees float into view like the masts of wooden sailing ships and then disappear again in the mist. There is the swish of early commuters wading through lovely deep puddles when they think nobody is looking, the grumble of buses, the soft growl of motor vehicles heading uptown for the day's toiling.
Through the kitchen window comes the smell of rain and wet earth as I sip my mug of tea, the sound of branches in the garden shedding their cloaks of wetness, jubilant robins in the overstory singing down more life giving precipitation. This is one of the wettest summers in recent memory, but there is never enough rain for the robins, and they are giving the day their all.
There's something restful about a rainy day. If I could climb the old maple in the garden, I would be perched right up there with the robins, trilling for a whole day like these fine soggy hours just unfolding. Getting there in oilskins and wellies might be difficult though, and what do I do with my tea and the umbrella?
2 comments:
Rainy days can bring the calm and rest I need from gardening and running errands. It also brings a bit of a break from the heat if not the humidity.
Oh the joy of rain... I love it too... We are supposed to be in our "monsoon" season, but the weather currents have not brought the rains as much this year... :(
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