Tuesday, October 10, 2017
The rain is coming down fast and furious, and it is beautiful. It's even cooled things down a little bit although not much, and of course it's done nothing about the humidity but still...
It is a blessing in and of its wet and pure self.
I have had a hard day. When I wake up and feel more despondent than usual, I try to talk to myself with an optimistic heart, telling myself that the lowness will pass and perhaps truly good things will happen and they often do. But today my little self-cheering speech fell flatter than it usually does and I have simply struggled through this one, one foot in front of the other until I finally gave up and laid down and slept for awhile.
I did get to the post office and to town to run a few errands which had to be done, including going to the library which always cheers me but today, even that didn't help and I despaired a little with the woman in front of me at check-out who owed a sixteen dollar fine for overdue DVD's, which I can tell was not a sum she could easily spare.
Still, I got Trevor Noah's book, Born a Crime: Tales From a South African Childhood and I have been wanting to read it.
So yes, good things have happened today. I found that book, I got my errands done, it has rained a fine rain, the arugula and mesclun have busted dirt, the tiny green ears of the first leaves are showing in my crooked rows. This is always such a fine sight, to see beginnings of the plants which I have helped to be with my planting of seeds in the dirt of our garden. Until the day I die, it will be a miracle, this ability to grow food from seed and soil, just as is the egg which comes from a hen, the bread which rises with the yeast, the tree which grows and has grown throughout the added-up lifespans of many humans, bearing witness to not just the first white people to settle here but the people who came long before them to hunt the still-prolific deer, to drink from the streams and rivers and springs.
Still, despite all of these things, so marvelous and fine, not to mention all the rest of the wonders of my life which sustain and bring me love, it has just been a hard day.
Hard days happen.
They just do and this is part of being human, although a part I would be so happy to give up.
The rain has almost ceased and the sun is setting behind the gray drape of clouds but still, things proceed as they always do, whether I can see them or not.
There are so many metaphors there but I see no reason to belabor any of them.
Sometimes it just is what it is.
The chickens are coming in to roost. They survived the little storm as they always do.
As do we.