.
Gray falls wet out of the sky, as the dark of the year slips quietly toward light. It is familiar, the relentless wet; the water that spills, flows, trickles and runs. I’ve spent too many winters bathed in the moist embrace of the Pacific Northwest to not love low gray clouds and mosaics of puddles. I had mistakenly thought I would not miss winter’s long slow rainstorm. Oddly enough, it is like a lingering childhood memory; one that both defines one’s being and stakes a claim on the soul.
.
Rain. It is Nature’s soft piano music. It lacks the jiggle and bell of crisp dry cold.
Soft and relentlessly pitter-patter still. It is a comforting familiar soundtrack to accompany the turning of the year.
May the sweet benediction of the rain be the beginning of a most blessed 2010 for you, for all. And thank you for your shared wisdom in these blogs. You have blessed me in this difficult year of 2009.