The rain falls in a mist at the fall of dusk,
silent and warm, warm enough
to melt the Feburary snows,
the water soaking slowly
into the parched land,
running downhill to the streams,
life giving waters for the deer and coyote
that live in these mountains.
In the creek below your house,
fish dance in celebration of deeper waters,
the ice glaze broken through,
the sky reflecting through their ceiling the first time in months
You are inside, looking out, keenly aware
of the bright warmth of the fire
that warms your feet
this winter's day, grateful
for the blessing of this unexpected place
you now inhabit, so far from home, grateful
for the heat of friendship and passion
so late in the season.
The verse, from my bible readings yesterday evening, reads I will send down showers in season; there will be showers of blessing.
The picture (which I purposefully blurred) was taken in Rupert, Vermont. You can click on it for a larger version.