Today I love knowing the rain as a friend who keeps my water barrels as full as it can. I love the gentle way it drums upon the cottage roof, telling me it is close by and here to keep me company, offering me solace and succor whenever I feel down, singing its lullaby quietly in its susurrous way. I love the rain and the way it reminds me that I have one life and everything I experience is part of that life and to waste time with regretting any part is to waste a part of my life. I love that here at the cottage the piano is being played gently while the rain falls gently and my life gently is, and is good. I love that the song being played right now is “Let It Be,” how perfectly fitting to this day and to my life thus far and hopefully yet to come. I love that earlier today we sat on the end of the dock and watched the rain come slowly across the bay from Bruce County, walking on the water, wearing its cape of silver white and swirling toward us. I love that it sprinkled its hello on us and bade us rise and head in, that it followed us gently as we walked up the dock, onto the lawn and up to the clothes line where we gathered in yesterday’s towels and suits and headed inside just as the rain threw her cape off her shoulders and settled it down over our world to fall more earnestly on deck and grass and brook and tree and on our anxieties, holding down the dust and washing clean the dirt of heavy thoughts and hot days.
Today I love that breakfast was the usual cottage fare and thus satisfied us well and while we ate we talked and laughed and found each other again after a night of having been busy in separate endeavors according to the huge vast differences in our dreams. I love that a raft of children have arrived at their grandparents place two doors down and the screams of joy and laughter that announced their arrival was just the clarion that should announce the beginning of a time spent at a cottage on the water’s edge.
Today I love that as I have written this, the rain has wandered off to find some other place that needs its ministrations, in the country song vernacular it said, “Hold my beer …” and got up off its seat to take care of some brewing brawl elsewhere. I love that more rain will show up before this day is over, cooling, calming, calling us to sit quiet and breath and think and hope and live.
Today I love sipping coffee while the world is held still by the rain and I can embrace it with my eyes and study it as it stands still.