It’s been raining non-stop. Figuratively and literally. Sometimes it’s a light mist, sometimes it’s a steady rain and other times it’s been a raging storm. There were moments when I thought the house, high atop the hill, was going to fall to pieces, the rain pounding down on it until there is nothing left.
It’s why people here in the Pacific Northwest drink so much coffee. And why I am drawn to such saturated colors. So that I won’t get washed out.
Miraculously, it stopped raining this morning. The cloudy skies are still ominous with a constant threat of rain. But right now, this very second, no rain falls.
I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t really want to go outside – it’s still a mess. Mud and puddles – evidence of the rain is everywhere.
But the smell of the land after the rain, after everything has been washed away, is magnificent. Purity in the most amazing form. It might be enough to draw me out.
Progress. At last.