"Life is the fire that burns and the sun that gives light. Life is the wing and the rain and the thunder is the sky. Life is matter and is the earth, what is and what is not and what beyond is in eternity"
~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca
There is a dim gray light just beyond the window, peeping around the wooden blinds. I can not hear the rain abut I know she is there. It is nearly 8:40 A.M. and for the past 40 minutes the sun has been hinting that she sits just on the other side of the clouds. Another sunrise that almost isn't. This is not a complaint. The rain here in the Northwest serves as a reminder of some other primordial time. A time when forests were abundant every where.
"You pray for rain, you gotta deal with the mud too. That's part of it."
~ Denzel Washington
Daily there is winter rain. She is our constant companion. The lawn remains green ~ 1000 miles north of the California's Central Valley, the gardener continues to show up for work on Thursdays to mow the lawns. Frost, Rain's significant Other, shows up now and then as well but seems to toy only with the flowers. The icy pansies that flourished on the Island in Puget Sound were transferred to this more in land home. Although I thought they were destroyed beyond help ... severely frost bitten, somehow they regenerated. Little purple and white pansy lion faces greeted me when I let the dogs out this morning. The roses perished - lost. Pots did not meet their needs nor offer sufficient protection from Frost's icy fingers. But then that is the stuff that is composted and will serve other roses in some future Spring.
"Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat down upon your head with silver drops. Let the rain sing a lullaby"
~ Langston Hughes
This slow motion, rainy day is underway. Wet me, wet camera, wet dogs. So be it. The price of life here in the Northwest.