Rain kissed Hosta.
Or Light cradled Morning.
Love makes cradlers of us all,
if we learn to love…
Which is sadder: a rainy Sunday or a rainy Monday?
Both once felt like a waste.
Now both feel like an opportunity. Or, better, a challenge, which at this point in my life is more of a blessing than I realized in my youth. Learning to embrace the rain makes for a happier existence than lamenting it. Most people try to view rain as the prerequisite for the flowers, which is a fine way for children to begin accepting it, but I want to grow a little deeper.
On a rainy day, the world is gray, muted, and more subtle than in the stark revelatory shine of a sunny day. It allows us to notice and feel the quieter gradations of the world, which allows us to feel the softer things more acutely, expanding how we experience what some consider mundane and dull. Nothing in this world is dull, only our lack of imagination and belief in possibility. Once you unleash that shift in perception, everything is new again.
