September 20, 2002

• Stormy Weather -

  
  

  Friday is a good thing.  Today we have heavy thunderstorms rolling in.  These follow on the heels of storms we had yesterday and the night before.  Yum!  We needed the rain.  (We still need more rain of the long slow soaking variety.)  The grass is so happy, and green.  You can't even tell where Tucker left the waterhose running all night anymore.  It's about 100% better than it has been.

  
  

  What is it about the hint of electricity in the air?  That inimitable smell of dust that rises in little puffs with the first drops of rainwater?  Why does the smell of rotting vegetation and dank mosses make happy shivers run up my spine?

  
  

  I have a favorite season.  I'm surprised to realize that my favorite season comes four times a year.  I love the season of change.  This is a double surprise because as a general rule I don't appreciate change.  I greet alterations to my plans as signs of betrayal by enemies of my state.  If you want to surprise me, well, just don't.  I don't like surprises.

  
  

  It's getting to be Fall.  I love the change from Fall to Winter when we hang the house with holiday decorations and bake treats.  I love the change from Winter to Spring when new life peeks up from the cold brown dirt.  I love the change from Spring to Summer when all the colors of the rainbow burst out in bloom.  And I live the change from Summer to Fall. 

  
  

  After the exuberance of Summer, Fall is a time of slowing down.  After the mindless joy of splashing in water and the thrill of sand in the shorts, Fall is the time of turning the mind back toward more intellectual pleasures.  I start thinking about what new thing I'm going to focus on learning this year.  I walk the aisles of school supplies and breathe with thankfulness the smell of fresh notebooks and college ruled paper.

  
  

  Fall is the time I start planning my crafting projects.  I choose the fabrics, the yarns, the colors and the tools I will need to hole up and create something with my hands.  There is something especially comforting about doing needlework with a cold wet rain falling outside.

  
  

  I have all the things I love represented in this scene.  There is the warmth of being surrounded by family in the warmth of the blanket I wrap aroudn me.  The security of my husband's love and provision rises in the steam from my tea cup.  The passion of creation flows from my fingers into the project of the moment.  The laughter and joy of growth is in the air I breathe.  The passion of learning is in the quiet moments when I lay aside the needlework and pick up a book.

  
  

  Oh, it's a Good Friday.

  
  

  

  • 12:55 pm
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