rainy days
And then it rained. Anne’s pond filled up first, and ran under the road.
Then it ran into our pond, which rushed around as if all sorts of important things were happening under its surface. Maybe to the crawfish and minnow and tiny brook trout, it was exciting.
I thought of our “road improvement” Town Hall meetings, looked up our unimproved dirt road, and was grateful.
The reflecting ball predicted more rain for the days to come, and it was right.
The hydrangea tree suddenly realized it was mid-August and burst into bloom.
I drove off in the rain to ring bells in Brewster. “Look to… Treble’s going, Treble’s gone.” We rang rounds and call changes on all eight bells as the rain drummed down the windows. I stepped past the wet, fallen apples outside the belltower door, got in my car and promptly got lost coming home. Why does rain make everything look unfamiliar? Thank goodness there were my mother’s birthday flowers in the window at home to welcome me.
