September 19, 2010

Having cut hay the other day and then having rain most days since, I probably should feel unhappy.  I cannot say at times I do not.  Yet, something about rain this time of year is special.  Moderate temperatures, clouds and midst settling into the hollows of the ridge, the sharp line of the ridge against clouds moving high above, makes one settle down for a moment and enjoy the smell of damp earth.  Where the grays of midst and clouds, the browns of the ridge, and the golds of grasses don’t get it, then there is the bright flowers of garden and flower beds calling for attention and a moment, a bit of silence, and shear enjoyment.

© David B. Bell 2010