Maybe Soon

The records say this is the warmest year so far in history, with February breaking all the records.

All I know is that we have had rain and rain and more rain, making for a slow start to damselfly/dragonfly emergence. Even though I can't prove it with a decent photograph, I saw a Common Green Darner cruising the lake today, flying fast, darting in and out of shore vegetation, on the make.

The frogs already got to it some weeks ago and now the toads too. Suddenly, the overflow channel (bone dry much of last summer) waves their egg masses and jelly strands.

Maybe there's hope yet for a lively renewal in and around the water.

I was ready to snap when

the lady coasted toward the handicap spot

(she's going to ruin my shot!)

paused

(I knew it!)

inched forward

(maybe . . . )

paused

(come on, lady! a little bit more!)

and finally pulled forward again before stopping

(yes!)

Thus ends another successful shopping trip at The Pig.

I will not write "after drought"

"rain has come" because, although some rain has fallen (for two nights and two days, off and then on), it has not been anywhere enough to make a dent in ending the drought which doubtless has resulted in the demise of plant and animal, some inconvenience for humans in water and fire limits, even, perhaps, the signal of something larger than any of us or even of this place, but I will celebrate the rain, however intermittent, and the fog, the humidity lingering in the air, reminding me of fecundity even in its absence.

Welcome, stranger, may you make a home here again.

According to the United States Drought Monitor, my community is categorized as D4 (Exceptional Drought), the most severe rating.

More Rain

Make yourself at home.

Stay a while.

Please.

The Challenge of Leaving the Kitchen

This.

The sound.

The spent leaves

The long-awaited rain.

Finally.

My kind of rain

falls steadily, pattering the leaves hard enough to be heard but not so hard to mute birds or break branches, the kind that pulls me to screened doorways for no reason other than to listen and look, the kind that when it stops leaves behind an earthy perfume and cool air. I wouldn't mind that kind of rain every late afternoon or evening.

Water Bowl

without sun
I made
my own

Surreality

I
Current election cycle.

II
Universe: 13.8 billion years. Odonates: 300 million years. Homo sapiens: 200,000 years.

III
Rainy day tricks of light.

Even just 5 minutes of sunshine

relieves my Rainy Day Blues.

Note to Self

Whatever you do, do not, under any circumstances whatsoever, go for a walk under such a cloudy sky because -- even though every weather site promises clouds only without rain -- "if it can happen, it will." Good thing the digital camera holster had a rain cover (which I couldn't quite figure out how to use) and a generous person downtown gave me two plastic grocery bags.

Sometimes I feel just about as out of it as this bumper alongside the trail.

And Still, Rain

Rim shot.

I've all I've got.

What It Is

When I went to sleep, there was rain.
When I woke, there was rain.
When I worked, there was rain.
When I ate, there was rain.
When I looked outside, there was rain.
When night fell, there was rain.
Today, I have had enough of rain.

Before

Christmas Eve 

visit to my niece's new studio

rain and water

first gifts: 

what's most beautiful

is as it is.

Rainy Day Illumination

Metal and Paint, Number 7

Lonnie Bradley Holley's Spirit Bird and punched-tin chandelier

An Apology to the Elderly Lady Patiently Waiting to Park in the Handicap Space at The Pig

I had to snap the only beautiful thing on still another gray day.

I am so sorry, and I thank you greatly for your kind patience.

The Forecast Gets It Wrong

No rain, it said.

No rain today, it says now.

Tell that to the people who ran errands in it, like me.

Tell that to people who bought air return filters and left them in the car so they wouldn't get wet, like me.

Tell that to the woman whose pricey camera, rented for a week, lies ignored on the dining room table.

At least I can look back at One-a-Day Photos of 2015 to find color.

Nine months in, three to go.

Surely, the rain will break before the year is up.

Right?

And on the third day

of the camera rental, more rain fell.

At least the Chekhovian sisters (wrong number, right mood) commiserated with me briefly.

We all long for something other.

Feeling Prickly

Sprained ankle.

Fog.

Rain.

Gray skies.

And So It Begins . . . Again

Make no mistake: it's still summer.

Despite the unusually cool temperatures. (Who's complaining? Not I. The air conditioning turned off for the first time in ages. Even the cats, cold last night due to open windows, cuddled me, willingly.)

Despite the pouring rain. (Usually we're still in something like a drought. Who's complaining? Not I. No watering of the newish shrubs for a while now. No need.)

However.

The odonates are not fans of the cool temps and rain.

And I, free to admit since I am not employed by the college, am not celebrating the return of students to an otherwise quiet community.

Today, after waiting more than five minutes just to get onto University Avenue, after nearly hitting two students who walked right out in front of my moving without ever looking, after weaving through hordes of them Friday night, I felt an urge to push that button.

But.

I didn't.

A Bit of Green

on another rainy day.