Singing in the Rain

After a fairly nice weekend weather-wise (and life-in-general-wise too: Robert graduated from his Masters program on Saturday!!!), today has been all gray and rain and gloom. And as content as I would be to curl up on the couch (of which I must post before and after pictures, being that I dyed it this past week!) with coffee and a novel while the rain slides down the panes of my living room windows, my daughter does *not* deem that appropriate rainy weather behavior. For what she does deem acceptable, see exhibit A:



And since I am a mama who believes quite zealously in the ideas espoused by folks such as author, Richard Louv , I quickly abandoned my comfie couch-curling aspirations, in favor of pulling on our rain boots, bundling up in coats fit for snow (it was cooooold!), and splashing in the puddles for over an hour. As much as I was dreading the departure from the warmth of my cozy home, I have to admit that I think I had as much fun as Ella did: spinning and dancing and frolicking in the wet, wonderful weather!




We marched and sang and giggled. We picked up pieces of litter, and collected bits of nature. (I even found some bundled white flowers and funky, fuzzy green globes, grounded from their perches in trees and bushes by the persistence of the rain, that will make wonderful, natural design elements once I commit them to vases and other vessels! Score!)

When we came in our fingers felt like icicles, wet curls framed our rosy faces, and Ella's rain boots were 3/4 of the way filled with rainwater. She quickly de-robed and climbed into a steamy bubble bath, while I brewed hot vanilla tea. And finally, toweled off and tea-d up, we settled in under blankets and books, BEHIND those wet windows...

And now, Mary Oliver on the rain:

Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me

Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,

what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again

in a new way
on the earth!
That's what it said
as it dropped,

smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches

and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing

under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,

and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment

my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars

and the soft rain -
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.