Thursday, June 28, 2007
The tops of the trees bow in succession from the winds. Wet winged mockingbirds stop for a moment on the gateway pole of the garden. The sound of rain dripping off the roof blends in with the music playing on the stereo. The green of this wet summer are so bold, standing out even more in the rain. The early morning colors beg me to pass through the back door and explore in the gentle rains. No thunder sounds.
Not far from where I live is land that was used for a native american camp. On days like today, when the grounds are so soaked and muddy, I go there and think about how life must have been for those folks when the weather turned dirty for long periods of time.
We have had the windows open, my husbands well planned building on our additions allows us to have windows open when its raining without it coming in, but the dampness seeps in. The air is so heavy with it.
Last night reminded me of camping in the rain, that same dampness was felt on my face and on the pillow. This morning I question if it was more of a sense of dampness rather than the actual. Which ever it was, it felt damp to me as I dozed off to sleep.
I am loving this weather, it makes me feel pensive, which for me is a comforting feeling, a productive emotion. Just sitting and thinking is balm for the soul.
Morning Glories are taking over the bird feeders. It looks pretty, and the birds are not feeding from the feeders this time of the year. The view from where I am sitting this very moment
It is a silent sort of morning, sitting next to the wood stove in my rocker, watching the birds outside my windo...