It’s a misty morning in Lake Wobegon. A just-right rain for early Sunday.
Sometimes a day like this is necessary, I think. It helps shrink the world to manageable size for a short while. Right now, I’m looking more closely at the greening bushes in the yard than at George Bush. Paying more attention to rain-washed peonies than to Turd Blossom. Far more focused on a cuppa joe than on Lieberman. Yes, sometimes a rainy day also nurtures overblown metaphors. That is the way of things. There’s a little bit more.
So the rain continues to fall gently. Can’t hang anything out on the literal clothesline today (yes, I do have one and I use it when the neighbor pit bulls aren’t roaming around in their yard, off leash, separated from me and my clothesline by an electronic fence that they don’t always honor). Too wet for planting. The birds don’t mind the rain, though. The avian chorus is starting up in earnest now. Today, it's cardinals, chickadees, finches, sparrows, wrens and the occasional pesky grackle.
I think I’ll take a day off from the world. Water the indoor plants so they don’t feel slighted. Cook up porridge that we brought back from Ireland. Read some more of The Golden Compass. And thank creation that I can enjoy a day like this.
Tomorrow, I’ll kick ass.
Meanwhile, how're things in Little Walden, Perhansa, on this rainy day? How are the rest of you doing, rain or no rain?