Sunday, June 25, 2006

Rain, rain, rain

There is something very cathartic about the rain. Perhaps it is the sounds of thunder, and the white noise created by millions of droplets hitting the pavement that creates an orchestra of sound. The white noise is very soothing, and seems to make me very introspective. As I sit here on my porch watching the lightening and enjoying the peacefulness, I can't help but think about how great the rain is.

I have flowers everywhere in my yard, all which are enjoying the liquid nourishment they are receiving. Daisies, Hibiscus, lillys and others are doing great. They are joined with herbs which are starting to get going. Hopefully good culinary arts will follow.

The rain has meant something very different to me since moving to DC seven years ago. In a city that often has red ozone alerts, a ton of trash on the streets and general city filth, every time it rains hard like this is an oportunity for cleansing, or renewal. In otherwords, DC is getting a much needed shower.

People are off the streets, it is quiet, there isnt a firecracker (or gunshots) to be heard. It is a nice change of pace. I tend to do a million things until my body and mind are exhausted. this weekend has been more about relaxing and enjoying my house and neighborhood.

It could also be that the clouds and rain are preventing my directv from working which is giving me a few moments to reflect, rather than staring into the boob tube.

Hopefully all of you are enjoying this time as well.

3 comments:

  1. (writen by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)


    How beautiful is the rain!
    After the dust and heat,
    In the broad and fiery street,
    In the narrow lane,
    How beautiful is the rain!

    How it clatters along the roofs,
    Like the tramp of hoofs
    How it gushes and struggles out
    From the throat of the overflowing spout!

    Across the window-pane
    It pours and pours;
    And swift and wide,
    With a muddy tide,
    Like a river down the gutter roars
    The rain, the welcome rain!

    The sick man from his chamber looks
    At the twisted brooks;
    He can feel the cool
    Breath of each little pool;
    His fevered brain
    Grows calm again,
    And he breathes a blessing on the rain.
    Thus the Seer,
    With vision clear,
    Sees forms appear and disappear,
    In the perpetual round of strange,
    Mysterious change
    From birth to death, from death to birth,
    From earth to heaven, from heaven to earth;
    Till glimpses more sublime
    Of things, unseen before,
    Unto his wondering eyes reveal
    The Universe, as an immeasurable wheel
    Turning forevermore
    In the rapid and rushing river of Time.

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  2. A wise woman once said "this is why I love you"....

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