A Journal of Sorts

Saturday, 3 April 1999

In the rain

It was a gorgeous early morning. I had been up a couple of times in the night to admire the thunderstorms, but the sun actually peeked out for a few minutes at dawn. It was muggy and humid, but we had a grackle putting on such a show for us that we felt little discomfort.

Tom took my yard tour with me and we discovered that the burr oak has decided to go ahead and be a tree this year. Itsy leaves all over it, FINALLY. The bald cypress is a champ, though . .it is such a lovely little tree with all of its little green sprouts. The red oak is still pregnant. The red oak and the cypress are the big trees. Both of them are seven or eight feet tall. The little burr oak isn't quite five feet.

If the trees grow as fast as my grandsons, they should be towering over the house in a few weeks!

I love the rain. I love the rain. I LOVE the rain!!! Just had to take a rain break (go outside and experience it for awhile) while I was writing this. A goodly downpour, sheets and sheets of it with the proper accompaniment of thunder and lightning. I feel I could conquer the world on days like this. I am rain supercharged.

I have so many rain memories. Walks and romps in the rain from my early childhood and walks and romps in the rain from a few months ago. *smile* My neighbors, out on their porches watching the thunderheads, give me timid smiles as I dance in the puddles with the kids. I think they are having mixed feelings like, "boy, when I was a kid I used to play in the rain like that" mixed with, "is she out of her mind - they are going to catch their death".

There are soft, warm memories, as well. -- a delightful rainy afternoon with a special person, tantalizing and teasing -- nursing a newborn while a spring shower patters and patterns on the glass -- a gentle rain in the woods with the sun sparkling rainbows and the bird's symphony for accompaniment.

Rain adventures with a squall so severe it folded our tents and the flooding Brazos encompassed the pecan groves under our campsite. It was like a raging sea -- or the time we got stuck in a canyon near Amarillo because the way out was underwater.

Last evening, during our wine-on-the-patio chat, we discussed which Easter Mass to attend. The Saturday evening vigil mass was the one we chose so the boys could do the thing with lighting the candles outside. I want just enough break in the rainstorm to be able to do that.