Winter rain, now tell me why summers fade and roses die.The answer came: the wind and rain.
Eric Andersen/Bob Weir
...sunshine outside...day before the summer solstice...just moments after acknowledging to friends behind the counter: it’s now official—the weather’s made me depressed...paid, picked up the coffee mug, walked to a window table...and there it was...felt it before I saw it...a warmth and brightness coming in through the glass...
...could only hope it’s shining on my friends at the Clearwater Folk Festival, singing along with Pete Seeger...to everything, turn turn turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn...
...woke this morning half an hour after Saturday morning yoga class started...heard the rain beating down on the roof before even opening my eyes...decided to go back to sleep...
...wouldn’t’ve been so bad if it hadn’t been for the teasing un-wet summerlike yesterday...walking in the early evening, I saw fireflies...fireflies...for the first time this year...
...ended up going downtown for a different yoga class in the afternoon...was sitting around feeling miserable thinking jesuschristIdon’tfeellikedoin’anyfuckin’yogatoday...but know from experience that there’s no better time to do yoga than when you’re sitting around feeling miserable thinking jesuschristIdon’tfeellikedoin’anyfuckin’yogatoday...and it’s true...
...started out by bike, then turned around and got the car...don’t mind getting wet on the way home...just keep peddling to keep warm then jump in the shower and into dry clothes...but getting soaked on the way to somewhere else is different...
10 comments:
Each moment is a prerequisite for the next. That rain will feed flowers and fruit and vegetables. Birds will take baths, children will splash in puddles, and it will seep down into the aquifers, making it so that you have a summer in every sense of the word and not a drought.
It was inconvenient. The rain lulled you to a deeper sleep, the sound of water slapping a surface with that rythmn often does that.
Its like you are disspointed that you were hypnotized by a beautiful song of rebirth and growth.
All my friends back East are bothered by the endless rain. The Central Valley, Ca will see little to none through October. Sometimes too much sun is a bother as well...but then I don't get drenched going to a yoga class - I also don't own a bike :-/ How I miss the sound of rain. Like a yard sale - one person's junk another person's treasure.
Sounds like rainy-day sunshine! It's good that you did yoga. Feel better.
June has been the wettest, and dreariest, I can remember.
I will stop short of describing the weather today as to not trigger a depressive episode with any of your readers standing under an umbrella at the moment.
I had been thinking I would have to resort to a spray on tan if I wanted to show my legs in public. Not a pretty sight!
Namaste'
Wow, drjay, I don't think I've ever heard that song. What kinda Dead fan am I anyway??? Looked it up and listened...how beautiful.
Yeah, it feels as though it's been raining for weeks...unrelenting rain and humidity...rain I love, humidity, not so...ugh.
I know what you mean about not minding a soggy ride home. When I used to commute to D.C., the summer storms would always hit at quitting time but I loved them. I thought it was fun riding through flooded underpasses, although I coulda used some brakes...yikes.
It has been raining here for weeks and last night was a deluge. Grateful for shelter! Today, there are patches of blue sky. Very promising.
I am now heading upstairs to begin my daily yoga practice again after a six month break (!) I don't feel like it either, but you are right, it's then that we need it the most.
Love your blog title.
I wish like hell it would rain here in the Hollow. A slightly soggy yoga class would be a nice change to the dehydrated desert class I've been experiencing. Thanks for the laugh!!
I feel like I'm in a jesuschristdon'tfeeldoinganythingbutyoga kind of frame of mind. I guess that's an ok way to get by...
I've still never seen a firefly.
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