When it rains, it pours...
The sun disappeared for days at a time. On and off, for over a week, we got doused. Drizzled upon. Drenched.
The flowers loved it.
So did I.
This wasn't always the case. There was a time that "rainy days and monday's would always get me down." Prone to bouts of depression, primarily emerging from the unexplored grief of a traumatic childhood, I'd invariably cloud up on gray days, and rain on my own parade.
Nowadays, I find gray days and stormy weather energizing. It is always a chance to get real.
Whether it's an overcast sky, a soft foggy drizzle, a thunder-booming rip-snorting whizzbanger -- or anything in-between -- once I remember to just be present for the actual experience, there is something immensely alive and vibrant about such weather. Dancing beyond our ability to control it, Mother Nature just is. She will just do what she will do -- no matter how we think or feel about it. So, why not relax and dig it!?
At this very moment
As I sit here with fingers dancing across the keyboard, I see the sun playing hide and seek with storm clouds outside. Through the open window, I hear the wind singing in the trees, a collection of birds twittering, the tires hissing along the rain slickened asphalt of High Street.