I’m singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feeling
I’m happy again
~lyrics by Arthur Freed
The rain came. Lots of it. A steady downpour. Too much even for intrepid all weather walkers like myself and the dog, at least when we’re at the cabin (we are sort of wimpy city walkers). But this last weekend at the cabin, we stayed in as the rain kept the day dark and the forest drenched. By Saturday afternoon, we needed some outside time. So I put a chair under the tiny covered area in front of the door, wrapped up in a blanket with Rosie bundled on my lap and…sat.
We sat and listened to all the rain sounds–drops splish splashing on the deck, tip tapping in the trees, roaring in the swollen creek. The air was fragrant with wet pine, and chilly but we were hunkered warm in our soft shelter. The golden maple leaves danced brightly in the misty shadows.
It was all so achingly beautiful, so exquisitely transcendent, like a shower cleansing my soul of anything that was not pure, perfect light. I cried in sheer, surrendered joy. My heart rained tears in sweet harmony with nature’s song.
I was sitting in the rain
Just sitting in the rain
What a glorious feeling…
Here is the view from my chair.