Wednesday, October 3, 2007
My Moss is Perking Up
Ahhhhh... the sweet, glorious rain has returned in earnest.
Don't get me wrong. I enjoy a good sunny day as much as the next gal, but the heat of Summer holds no true pleasure for me much past 80°. Pool or no pool.
I despise sweating.
There's a saying that goes, "You can tell a Native Oregonian by the moss on our backs and the webs between our toes."
I think I do own one, but I can't even tell you where it is. No, rain is for washing the earth and my face in splashy droplets of liquid sky.
Drink it in and feel my roots bore deeper into mother earth, secretly feasting on her hidden goodness that only well-watered tapping tendrils may seek out.
When it rains, the harder the better mind you, my truest self awakens and I feel alive and somehow relaxed. In my element.
Make pot roast. Chicken and dumplings.
Read by a crackling fire while a torrent pounds and the wind howls past my chimney-top underscoring that I am safe and warm and well-fed.
Makes me more keenly aware of so many blessings overlooked when all is calm, dry and quiet.
Rain reminds me that I live in a place where things want to grow. Things I can eat and feed my family.
Growing things love rain.
Children are growing things.
My children love the rain...
... but, not as much as they love mud.