Dec. 3, 2007 Rain
The second wave of rains have come at last, persistent, wet, fresh. The power is out in town, the ground soggy and nothing to do save sit at the window and stare. About 40 robins have flocked around the house feeding on seeds in the grass, on worms, on the grapes hanging wetly on the vine, and the figs rotting on the ground. They are completely tuned to each other. All fly at an instant, a signal too fine for my eyes or ears. Then they return and settle down to feed again. They must be on their way to warmer climes and have awaited this message from the sky to feel south pulling on them strongly to begin to store up strength for the move. So too Doug and Denise--they leave Wednesday.
I spent the day inside letting go of the restlessness of mid morning and the urge to "do something". Called Ruth and she seemed more relaxed from the turmoil of yesterday. So I settled down like the robins, content, and paid a few bills, then put feet up on the desk, let the day giide by unsullied by effort. Peaceful. Quiet. Thoughts wandered through the misty downpour but all the flurry of buying pipe and digging ditches and burying line gave way the the truth of the moment slowly moving on to afternoon. Sitting with rain and the robins flocking, picking and pecking and flying off and settling down again in great stillness. Like my thoughts.
I went out for a walk in the foggy drizzly evening with the dog. My legs got soaked where the pancho doesn't provide cover. At almost dark I took a hot hot bath with cold fresh rain falling on me and all around as darkness itself fell deeper and Doug and Denise came back from Redding.
A good quiet day tending the fire in the stove and the flame in my heart, full of healing and gratitude and letting go.