This morning I woke up facing toward the east with a gentle, dove-colored sky filling my view. It was a soft, sleep-in kind of morning–everything still and quiet, my dogs snuggled warmly by my sides. I could see our donkeys and horses all standing peacefully in the pasture. Not grazing, not moving around, but seemingly waiting for something. In fact, though everything about the morning suggested a feeling of calm, there was also an undeniable air of hushed expectation.
Then I turned over to the view out of my windows on the west side of the house. There I saw a sky banked by a mountain of dark, blue-gray clouds rolling in from the west, so intense in depth and color it seemed to be a dramatic oil painting still in progress. It was as if Mother Nature was holding her breath just long enough for our world to have a gentle good morning before she freed the thunder to rumble across the pasture.
Some people might look at a rainy, thundery Saturday as dreary or disappointing. Not me. I have always loved a good thunderstorm. I think, as a native Oklahoman, you learn to embrace thunderstorms, and I daresay enjoy them. The skies in our corner of the world can turn into living, roiling works of art in the blink of an eye. You either embrace nature’s moody displays here, or, quite frankly, you move away from Oklahoma.
This is not to make light of the fact that our storms can also turn destructive and even deadly. If you live in tornado alley, you have great respect for nature’s ability to lash out. But today’s storm is just a lovely, slow gift of a thunderstorm. No high winds, no torrential downpours, no threats of things to come. Steady rumbles, gentle rain and lovely shaded landscapes. You can literally feel the grass, trees and plants drinking in the day as a last life-affirming gift before the chill of fall turns the brilliant green landscape to soft shades of brown and tan. This is a day to embrace and appreciate. This is a day filled with possibility.
Yes, there are a thousand chores I could choose to take on today. My to-do list is lengthy and always evolving. However, rather than break out the vacuum, this feels like a day to explore. I think today is a day to wander through our spacious attic, pick out a mystery box, and open it to see what forgotten treasures it may hold.
Today also feels like a day to create. Maybe I’ll pick up a paint brush. Maybe I’ll finish my crochet project. Maybe I’ll search the internet for that perfect new light fixture for the kitchen.
Or maybe I’ll stretch out with the dogs on the bed again and just enjoy the gentle play that is the world outside my pane of rain-speckled glass. This day is a gift. A beautiful, blessed day.
“The rain began again. It fell heavily, easily, with no meaning or intention but the fulfillment of its own nature, which was to fall and fall.” – Helen Garner