Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘rain’

A rainy morning and so it has been the past few days. Luckily, at least where I am, it is a gentle rain. Steady. The plants on the porch are happy with the exception of the lemon verbena. With the rain has come a briskness. While I’ve since learned that swiss chard and sorrel are cold hardy even into the winter months, verbena needs the warmth and so soon I suspect I will strip the leaves and dry them for tea.

It is too wet to sit outside. There are pools of water in the chairs. I should have tilted them. So I sit at the threshhold looking out, protected. It is where Steve used to sit in his chair. Sometimes from this vantage he would play a recorder. When he played, especially if he was on the porch and not just at the threshhold, I warned him to be careful of the young children across the street. Surely he did not want to become the Pied Piper and attract a gaggle of little people who would come knocking at our door. Although, but of course, a Steve of a different age/time would have loved just that and would have had me feed them. Or, if I wasn’t home, he would have surely taught them how to raid the refrigerator, use a knife, slice potatoes and cheese, whatever … and then school them in how to sit and have a meal together.

I sit here with my coffee and it is the falling rain providing music in the background. Later I’ll find the classical music station. We live on a quiet street without much traffic which makes it a mecca for children on Halloween. I have candy but I don’t know yet if I have the energy to sit outside that evening and be genuinely present to handout sweets. Steve enjoyed the ritual and sat out there a few times these past years doling out candy and costume compliments.

I don’t know yet …

As people start to talk about holiday travel and such … well, I don’t know yet what I want to do and I think that’s okay. Let others plan as they must and should but for now I am comfortable just being.

This past weekend was an intensely people-filled two days almost literally from dawn to dusk. Not in any bad way just full. So I don’t mind, perhaps I even relish, the “quiet” of the rain and the pearl gray sky. A good day to write (and I’ve plenty to do for work), and to read (also for work but also pleasure). And after that I will focus on the other necessities. It is amazing the paperwork once someone passes, and the need to develop new methods of tracking things that need to get done, now with one brain instead of two.

And after all that, might I dare go for a walk in the rain as I used to do so many years ago? Originally by myself but sometimes I would invite/coerce Steve to go along, even in rain or snow. Well, if so, at the first unseen puddle that fills my shoes with water freezing my feet, I’m sure I’ll look upward, as I used to do with Steve, as he warmed my hands under his shirt to keep me from getting frostbite, I’m sure I’ll look up and mutter innocently, “Please tell me again. Who’s idea was this?”

Onward … 🙂

Read Full Post »

I don’t think the wind and rain this morning really constitutes a storm, per se, but there is a ruggedness to the weather that makes me reminisce about a younger me who would relish dashing outside, however briefly, to experience a summer storm. Not so much now. I am wrapped in a thick sweater, sipping hot coffee, and tempted to slip back under the covers where a sleepy Steve still resides. I’ll wake him in a bit because he has a calvacade of people coming through today, friends, family, tai chi teachers and so on. Meanwhile I share a poem I wrote, way back when, all the way back in 2010, about the storms of my youth in Virginia.

Summer Storms

The food I’ve purchased and brought North with me. 

But the weather I could not carry in a cardboard box.

So when people ask  what I miss, that is what I tell them,

I miss most the southern summer storm.

You know the ones,

the ones with rolling thunder trailing white lightening in their wake.

Sheets of rain falling like milk from the sky. 

Such deafening noise and blinding light.

Children trembling as we peered past drawn curtains.

Unending it seemed but then poof! 

Like magic it would stop, leaving silence in the air. 

Darkness would part for the sun.  Birds sang.

All that remained of the storm would be puddles

and leaves strewn across the front porch.

We’d step outside into a golden light. 

God had scrubbed the world clean.

Just for us, you know, so that we could play. 

And play we did until the sun set

and the lightening bugs came out and danced with the stars. 

We would sit in the damp

winding down from another day well done. 

That is why I miss the summer storm.

Read Full Post »

 

IMG_20200705_141030275

IMG_20200705_140856624

IMG_20200705_095636188

Read Full Post »

VA2 Beauty of Rain

Read Full Post »

Aside from those times when I’m waiting at the bus station for what seems like hours and the winds are blowing so hard that an umbrella is useless, I love the rain. The sound of rain on rooftops. The scent of rain. The sight of rain striking windows or dripping from leaves.  Peter Gabriel’s Red Rain is one of my favorite songs. All the different renditions of I Can’t Stand the Rain … just love it.  Living in the northeastern part of the U.S.,I’ve rarely had to think about rain. There’s no real lack of it.  I’ve just accepted it when it falls but Cynthia Barnett’s book, Rain, truly gave me a new appreciation for rain’s influence in shaping human society and culture both in the past and in the present.

Over the past two months, I’ve carried the book across two continents.  Just under 300 pages in length, it’s not that long but the writing is dense and detailed. There’s no one narrative thread leading you someplace.  Each chapter is like an umbrella and beneath that umbrella there’s a beautifully complicated web of stories all united by rain. One moment you’re reading about the origin and evolution of the Mackintosh raincoat by 18th century Scottish inventor Charles Macintosh and next you’re reading about Mary Anderson, a Birmingham, Alabama socialite who devised the first windshield wiper.

The Scent of Rain is a particularly fascinating chapter where she explains how rain “picks up odors from the molecules it meets. So its essence can come off as differently as all the flowers on all the continents — rose-obvious, barely there like a carnation, fleeting as a whiff of orange blossom as your car speeds past the grove. It depends on the type of the storm, the part of the world where it falls, and the subjective memory of the nose behind the whiff.” Barnett takes the reader on a journey from a village in Uttar Pradesh where fragrances have been distilled for generations, including the scents of rain, using compounds found in nature to the labs of super-smellers and scent scientists working to synthetically develop the rain scents found in perfumes, detergents, soaps and air fresheners.

In the chapter Writers on the Storm, readers learn how rain in all its guises has influenced musicians from Chopin to Morrissey and the works of directors Robert Capra, Akira Kurosawa and Woody Allen. The book is a treasure trove of interesting stories, and well-researched facts, about how people and nature interact in the presence of rain.  If there is one suggestion I’d have for future editions it is to include maps. Barnett’s prose takes readers around the world and back again and maps illustrating that journey would be a boon.

Please note that I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review.  Additional links are below with information about the author and the book.

http://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/228186/rain-by-cynthia-barnett/

http://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/authors/177450/cynthia-barnett/

Read Full Post »

Read Full Post »

A steady rain falls this day and as the light shifts and the wind blows, beautiful patterns are created upon the kitchen windows.  In the foreground are the raindrops and in the distance are the branches of the towering oak tree, its leaves now dark russet and falling to the ground.

Read Full Post »

Read Full Post »

That’s the image that always comes to mind as I walk in the rain, and snap a few photos from beneath my umbrella.  No dancing, though I am tempted on occasion. 😉

Read Full Post »

I took these photos a few days ago, indeed, after a spring rain.  Today, these buds are bold blossoms, their petals glistening quite beautifully in melting spring snow.  I didn’t quite have the heart to photograph the snow. 😉

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »