Schools are closed today due to a tropical storm. I got up early anyway. It was raining at daybreak, as it is now. Lamps will stay on all day at the rabbit patch. Still, I did not find the early service gloomy, in the least. I do not mind a housebound day. Instead, I felt grateful for shelter. The storm did not seem threatening at the “high and dry” rabbit patch, but I knew the city streets were flooded enough to stop the school buses.
I put a pot of navy beans on and found an old black and white movie to watch. Mrs.Miniver, has always been a favorite of mine.During an intermission, I wrote a poem bidding farewell to the summer. Kyle, being a landscaper, is home today-Christian too, so this makes for a cozy affair at the old farmhouse. . .and so I made a big breakfast. . .and made plans for supper.
By noon, the wind started blowing. It was just enough wind to get your attention. The sycamore held on to its’ leaves for dear life, it seemed. In a fortnight, the tree will drop them without mercy. I stationed myself at the morning table and watched the wind gusting over the territory. There was a heavy mist swirling in the cool moving air. Cash and Christopher Robin were curled up together for a nap. What a picture of contentment, they were. I thought how precious home and hearth really are.
On such days, I think of my friend, Rae. Rae, like me, loves a day like this. Rae and I love a lot of the same things. She and I share a friendship- along with Janet, that has spanned about three decades. We watched one anothers’ children ramble in the woods, collect sticks and rocks, and chase chickens-and then go on to become lawyers, dentists, landscapers and more. Several of them, are parents themselves, now. We have consoled one another when loved ones were lost. . .parents and husbands, alike. Words can not do justice to the ties that bind us.
Even without an agenda, I did manage to complete a few tasks today. Thankfully, the house has remained orderly, since the huge summer project of decluttering. I feel like I am practicing the art of downsizing already. I never knew how satisfying it would be, to have fewer possessions. It is truly very liberating. . .and I highly recommend it.
We ate supper early-but darkness fell shortly after. The wind slowed down and the rain stopped altogether. There wasn’t a single star to make a wish on, when I went out. It didn’t matter one iota to me. I was rested, dry and had eaten well. The roof did not leak and all of the trees were standing-so was the old barn. Had I seen a star . . .I would have wished every one in the whole world, could say the same thing.
Dear Diary, I am glad to have sweet memories to remember in leisure hours. I am glad for a home, and all that dwell in it. I am glad for wind without malice and gentle rains that fall on field and flower . . .on an ordinary day, in very late summer.