Busying Ourselves

Sept 13 2019

An all-day rain

and the dogs, always sensible creatures

curl up

in their accustomed places

warm and dry.

How comforting, to be inside.

A steady rain

and its gentle calming patter.

Rivulets

zig-zagging down the glass,

the fog of breath

as I stand and watch.

The light is uniform

in terms of place,

low grey cloud

blanketing the sky

out to the horizon.

And over time, as well,

the day settling in

without any sense

of the sun's diurnal passage,

no waxing or waning

just imperceptibly fading

to dusk.

What a gracious interlude

in the headlong rush of life.

Between the urgency

of our short and precious summer,

guilting us out

loathe to miss any fun.

The pressure-cooker heat

contained in its high-gauge steel.

And the exigencies

of winter to come;

when rain will turn to snow

which will fall silently

into deep impassable drifts,

leaving us stranded

and anxious for home.

Or wind-whipped and whited-out

have us leaning-in,

teeth gritted

eyelids frozen shut.

Busying ourselves

in the elemental struggle
with no luxury of time.

The dogs step out the door, pause and consider, then retreat back into the house where they curl-up in bed with me. They adjust themselves so instinctively to the weather: no urgency, no to-do list, no compulsion to master nature.

A literal all-day rain is rare. Nevertheless, under this leaden sky, it feels like it. What an excuse for even a driven personality (which I'm most definitely not!) to take a time-out. There is something in the air of this unseasonably cold September that gives permission. I think of busyness: the urgency of summer; the exigencies of winter. And now, in this in-between time, a welcome pause.