I sit here, listening to rain patter down –
It’s April, in Colorado, and while every cell in my body tells me I’m risking the investment of $ spent on 7 gallon fruit trees, by foolishly leaving them in protected. albeit outdoor, area… overnight – well….I’m leaving them.
I did check the weather forecast and hope they are getting ever better at such forecasts – 🙂
You are free to laugh at my simple trust in Mother Nature and her kindness, patience and tolerance with me and my ways, especially if I post pics tomorrow, of yet another spring blizzard that killed living things I signed up to take care of….
But for now, in this moment of time and space – I’m carried back to my youth –
Of visiting my grandparents in their home east of the Mississippi –
A retirement trailer, with a back bedroom, with a metal roof – and the coziness of hearing the patter, patter of raindrops, without leaving my snug and warm nest.
The security of a child who can sleep in, on this rainy, drizzly day –
The soft murmur of voices known, even when words aren’t clear or understandable as they drift from the kitchen at one end of a single-wide to the bedroom located at the other end.
For the heart knows the timber and depth of Dad & Grandpa talking over morning tea and coffee – even if the ears and mind cannot make out the details.
The lighter tones and different melodies of Mom, Grandma, sisters and aunts, join in as they catch up as best they can in the time they have together, all while breakfast is cooked and placed on the set table –
The smell of bacon or ham eventually alerts the adult me to the fact the soft patter of raindrops falling and the soft crackle of morning meal frying in a skillet blended together until the two sounds melded to create a multi-leveled symphony that still speaks of home, loved ones and safety.
For some, the peaceful day means burrowing and snuggling deep into the nest of warm quilts and soft bed – drifting back off to dreamworld,
Trusting completely in the nest guarded by so many who love and the knowledge there are so many things to love here & now.
For others, the tummy awakens and insists the soul and mind withdraw from dreamland, the body be galvanized into departing the nest to stumble forth and for all pieces to make their way to the kitchen and take part in the symphony the household is creating, in real time –
Without rehearsal – without previous plans – nothing but the practice of each instrument, daily, going about greeting the new day.
Sigh – if weather forecast is correct, I’m truly, tonight, wishing heartily I could travel back in time to when I was 9 years old, go to sleep, and magically….
awaken to tomorrow -once more in the time place of this memory.
At the very, least, I wish I wasn’t on duty tomorrow –
I’d really like to awaken, hear the gentle & slow delivery of moisture, snuggle under the covers, and drift back off into dreamland…
Sleeping in is, I believe, my only option – unless scientists and my bones are mistaken and I awaken to massive snow dumps that relieve me from needing to be elsewhere – cuz I signed up to do so – but result in shoveling, tunneling moisture from areas I haven’t yet figured out, yet, to naturally water other areas, given slope, grade, improvements, without me ever moving it, meself –
I’m pretty certain I won’t awaken to the smell of cooking bacon…unless I’ve learned to cook while sleeping.
However, Oakley, the wonderdawg, might just surprise me – 🙂