All night long it was the sound of the rain from the eaves, and still this morning it falls, steady and deliberate, on the million leaves that have supplanted the pollen of two weeks ago, on the birds feeding out back, onto puddles where it bubbles and disappears. And this is easy, to sit and…
Five Minute Friday (on Saturday): Grateful
Grateful. For a sudden shower that swept across the pond and misted me on my porch-seat, while all the while the sun shone. For children, "lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes," and lovely in voices, filling the house for a night and part of a morning: so alive. For a God who prevented the…
for rain
There's that tantalizing look of rain outside. A slim 20% chance according to meteorologists, and we're mostly in the 80%. I've read interpretations of Matthew 5:45 that said the sun shining on the wicked and the good stands for blessing and the rain on the righteous and the unrighteous means trouble. But I've never read…
concerning tests, fruit, resurrection
Spring inhabits the out-of-doors, pollen-yellow and noisy with bird-song, growing thicker and greener by the hour it seems, trees partaking of the fruit that brings knowledge of good and evil and putting forth frail coverings: "I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid…
The Happy Mondays
*This song for mood music. Click and listen while you read. *The option to have my alarm make gentle noises instead of blare at me. *The patience of morning traffic in the rain. *A black dog who grinned at all passing cars as if all contained friends. *Someone with an umbrella striped like an American…
tips
Yesterday morning I found a mushroom like a white paper parasol for a tiny doll. Last night thunder which made the windows rattle repeatedly jolted me from the edge of sleep and forced me into mental inventories of the things in my room which could potentially fall off the shelves and break because of the shaking.…
on the umbrellas here, and on the ships at sea*
How it is raining, raining. How I wore purple rubber shoes and carried my black teacher-shoes in my bag. How I was then able to traipse directly through the deep puddles, feeling the chilly water wash round my toes. How the shoes, out of the water, squeaked and squeaked. I had purple rain boots when…
here. there.
Waking to thunder, I found the morning growing blacker rather than brighter, with rain and a tornado warning accompanying my morning tea. Good morning to you, Mississippi. Think of my surprise then, getting dressed, looking out the window, to find the sky clearing, the million water droplets sparkling everywhere. Blue skies on the drive to…
Syllabus and various other documents uploaded to my course's online homepage, and twenty names hand-written into an old-fashioned green attendance book. An online chart which tells me, to the minute, how recently which students visited my page, and still that abiding curiosity to learn their faces, their voices, tomorrow. The past several mornings I lifted…
The carcass of a tree downed by Katrina six years ago returns to dust, lying in fragments where it used to be whole and sound, where we used to walk along it, leap off its end, use it as a target in games of disc golf. Beaver-stripped gum trees bleed around their bases and turn…
Between Blue Rocks 