...and actually i still plan to attack and begin to conquer an ever-growing list of studio chores (jo, i know, i know! xo); but i stepped out back for just a minute this morning to find a few four leaf clovers to send my new zealand sister wendy, and the searching took me deep down into the closeness of what is all around me at my feet. oh! just look. it rained last night, ever so briefly (we down here in the south are suffering an awful drought, and i feel, feel, feel for my parents in alabama, who've not had rain in over two long months!), just as i was hunkering down into my flannel sheets and two quilts (still) to read for thirty minutes before sleep. i love to hear that hopeful, promising sound of rain, the slow first sounds of something hitting fresh new fat, tender leaves of late spring and early summer - the drops that come reluctantly at first, then more and more. and then the lovely smell that drifts in with the accompanying breeze, of wet grass and fern fronds and moss and whatever it is that makes the wet night mountain air smell so damned good. deep breath, here, right? i know. intoxicating.
seeing these miniscule water worlds resting, quivering, ever so momentarily on the backs and fronts of fallen leaves (why did they fall so soon?) makes me realize there are worlds and worlds we never stop to see. our feet pass right by an infinite amount of magical sights, but most of us either don't have the time or the means to stop and see.
it's a beautiful temporary world, one that i'm glad i was able to catch this morning. i'm sitting here at my computer, listening to the breeze in the trees, and i can hear the remaining drops that are clinging to the leaves patter to the ground. we needed that rain, and the thirsty earth is happy for it. the trees are grateful, as are the birds. it's time for me to get on to work, but i wanted to share these images with those of you who might not have been able to see the shining little worlds that glistened, if only for a moment, here on firefly road.
I meant to do my work today,
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land,
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand,
So what could I do but laugh and go?
- Richard LeGallienne