RAIN

The ghost tree, an ancient dead giant of an oak in our front pasture, is the huge queen, dark with saturation this evening. Like everything else, it has soaked up the heavy rains and day long moisture. The forest beyond is fat and dense. The resurrection ferns make all the oak limbs look plumped out in vivid green.

 We have had a very dry season this spring, crunchy grass underfoot and the cars covered in dust. Every day watering is the norm if we want to keep anything growing in the gardens. So we are all celebrating; frogs are in full throat and we sit out on the front porch before supper watching the hummingbirds come out from their nests to the feeders. Neighbors are on their way to fish in the pond. We can almost see everything growing. Rain is magical to growth. In this rural enclave we always talk about our tomatoes and when will it rain?

We love the beginning of rainy season. It is so crucial to our lives. And yet, for us who are so heliotropic, a rainy day has its challenges. Today I hunkered down in my studio with grandson Quincy,7, and friend Abby, 10. They had many projects in mind. I am trying to finish up the binding on my latest quilt and the kids are working on various projects. I ask them to help me sort out the various bins of art materials (markers here, glue stuff there, make a bin for the paints, etc.) Two hours later, we have everything in order, ready for the summer art camp. Quincy is in love with the finger puppets he has made in the last couple of days, and I must say, they really are very cute! Abby has made a number of wonderful stickers.

Later, after Abby and Quincy have gone home, I relish the quiet and the chance to attend to my own tasks and look at the edge of the woods shrouded in mist from the intermittent rain. There are so many things to worry about, and I do, but here there are so many parts of the natural world that just make me draw in a long breath of happiness.