I took a moment today to sit on the floor in the dining room and look out the window at the rain. It was meditative to observe without any expectation or need to act.
I watched the water drip off the channels of our tin roof. Each had a different timing, creating a pattern that shifted in and out of sync like turn signals at a long red light or aircraft warning lights blinking on a city skyline.
Fritter hopped over to sit with me. My attention broke from the rain and shifted to the greens in the garden.
I traced the path of vines up the shrubbery and for once, I didn’t yearn to pull them down and save our trees from strangulation. That urge will return tomorrow, but in the moment, it was enough to admire the wavy lines and the dense lid of leaves crowning the canopy.
I noticed that the chestnut on the far side of the driveway is nearly ripe. Some of the spickly balls are deepening to brown. Some are still green. Marauding monkeys will troop over here any day, eating all the nuts before we can get any.
And then the washing machine beeped for my attention and reverie time ended.
