Rainy Day

This morning, I sit in silence, listening to the rain as its steady patter hits the roof.  I imagine the soft water droplets exploding after their harsh landing, scattering into the air and gutters. Free falling.  The coffee is black, strong and hot, just the way that I like it.  The house is still, darkened by the smoke grey clouds blanketing the sky.  Only the light cast from the lamp illuminates the desk where I sit, musing on the morning.  I realize how much I enjoy these quiet, melancholy mornings.

To be honest, I love grey, wet mornings.  There is something beautiful about a universe that lets her world have a good cry of tears, every once in a while. It’s cathartic, as if the universe is saying, Just let go, it is what it is, let it be.  A lovely cleansing of sorts, preparing us for the eventual return of sunshine and clear skies. For when it happens we will be ready to appreciate the bright changes all the more.  Let some light into the darkness.

This is a baking morning.  Quiet, grey, wet mornings  demand an audience; they want to be treated as special guests.  Turn on the oven, the warmth from within fills the kitchen.  Carefully select, mix and stir the ingredients. Savor the cinnamon and vanilla.  Put the darling into the oven.  Blanket it in warmth for a spell.  Delicious goodness awaits.  A simple action that sustains.  Blissful, unhurried moments on a rainy day morning.