Early Morning Rain

This morning at 4:00AM I woke to the sound of rain falling on the tin roof. It was coming down fairly heavily gaining momentum. I could hear it hit the cupola on top of the house and race down the tilted sides to plunge again onto the lower roof. The water then funneled itself through the gutters headed to the earth, the garden and the creek, ultimately to the Toccoa River and Lake Blue Ridge. The ceiling in our bedroom is very tall for a sleeping space and the sound of the falling rain drumming the roof seemed to reverberate around the darkened room. There is something about being in the darkness, half asleep, lying in a warm bed hearing the rain slowly building in intensity outside in the dark that gives me great pleasure and a feeling of wellbeing. The garden is being watered by the generosity of nature and the chickens are getting a feather cleansing, free of exertion. Of course I do not wash the chickens but knowing they are being rinsed off by an early morning shower is somewhat gratifying. The small waterfall outside the front door is fed by the watershed above the house. The precipitation replenishes that vast number of trees above us, outside in the inky darkness. It insures that the waterfall will now run on into the fall and likely into the winter months, maybe longer. Thanks be to the rain! Frequently this time of year the waterfall (if you can call it that) has been dry for a month or more and does not start running again until the winter rains come. After holding the water hostage all summer the trees give up their captured moisture and release it back into the open environment.  It again runs through the streams and tributaries and falls from the skies in abundance.

The leaves here at Big Creek and falling off the trees much faster that they are changing colors. We will not have that splendid fall we have some years. The Beautiful fall color here is somewhat limited many years because it is too wet, too dry, too cold or too hot, always some reason. The truth is that we just do not have beautiful autumns here in north Georgia many years. There are very few sugar maples that proffer such amazing tree color further north. A number of miles from here in the Smokey Mountains the hills and mountains are ablaze with incredible fall color supplied by the plentiful sugar maples, brilliant reds and yellows. We do not have many of them here but still I manage to appreciate what we do have. The sourwoods give excellent red color as do some other deciduous trees. I will have to be satisfied with what we get here even though in New England the hills are afire with fall color. I look on their landscapes with some envy. After being in Italy for our recent trip I am glad to be home. Sitting in the house on a rainy Thursday morning looking out into the diminishing forest through a grey misty haze seems like the most profitable and delightful thing I could possibly do.