Saturday, May 10, 2014

A Much Needed Rain on Friday

                It’s raining here this late Friday afternoon, slow and steady. The low hanging clouds have pushed in with a vengeance after so many days and weeks without precipitation. The dry earth has lapped up the moisture like a thirsty sponge and is once again soft and pliant to the foot step. The rain started late this morning without a rumble or grievance and has continued on and off for most of the day. Settling the dirt road and rinsing its dust from the passing cars off the leaves and petals of the flocked blackberry bushes that are blooming in full tilt; the rain has rejuvenated this small valley. Time for blackberry winter is now but it seems that it is not going to happen this year, much to the consternation of the old timers who believe in a requisite cold spell during blackberry bloom as certainly as they believe is gravity. 

                Low hanging clouds conceal the tops of the trees and even the tops of the mountains obscuring visibility. It appears as though you are viewing them through a gauze curtain, so muted, soft and impressionistic. The half moon so visible and present here last night unsullied up in the firmament will make no appearance here this evening. The humidity is at one hundred percent and it is refreshing after so long with little or no relief from the parched weather. The way the thirsty earth comes alive and greens in response to the rain and again turns supple with the bountiful moisture is remarkable. With the overcast conditions here tonight the distant trees seem ghostly and as if you are seeing them in a dream. The now brilliant spring greens are more of a muted bluish grey than the actual color they are throughout the day when the sun is shining. For some reason when you walk outside while the weather is like it is here this evening, everything seems quieter more hushed and muted. It is similar to someone whispering into your ear but you can’t quite comprehend what they are saying. No matter how hard you strain to hear, it is imperceptible. You can feel their breath and instinctually know what they are conveying but not in understandable words, intuitively more than anything else. You just know. It’s like that here this evening, a waiting for something to happen, a phone to ring or a meteor to stripe the night sky on a clear evening. It is a moment filled with possibilities, a great secret yet to be conveyed that seems more pressing as the night grows darker by the second.

                This time of day, especially when it is raining is like that moment just before you fall asleep as you utterly relax and begin to lose consciousness. It is a giving up, a surrender, a small death.

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