I hate to contradict the FlyLady’s motto, “You are not behind”, but I am a day behind in writing my posts. To make up, I’m going to start from where I am.
I did a bit of kicking ass yesterday even though the day was grey. The sky was cloudless, covered by smoke from forest fires up north. The air was filled with its acrid smell. Our world was covered with an eery gloom. It felt just like the moment before the shoe drops.
But Sheba and I braved it in the early morning, walking/jogging down back alleys to the park. We sniffed the grass, smelled the coffee, and admired the many glooming blue delphiniums and pink hollyhocks, towering above back fences. We saw some grape vines trailing along and on top of fences, clusters of little green grapes showing through the leaves. It was a magnificent sight, nature’s colours glowing through the grey. It gave us heart.
So though the day was grey, I saw my inner world filled with the colours of the rainbow – much like the colours of Daphne’s bouquet from her garden. Even Monet could not out do Nature’s artistry.
Its beauty is there for all of us to share and enjoy. It’s not something you can covet, own and hoard in your own private museum like a painting. It’s there for the moment. Then it is gone to be reborn in another time and place.
The skies did not lift. I did some slow weeding and watering of my flower pots. One thing led to another. Somehow I cleaned up some beds and transplanted perennials. I finished reading about Stephanie Plum and Lulu’s adventure in Fearless Fourteen. Did you know that Stephanie had dreams of being Wonder Woman when she was a girl? How awesome!
The first raindrops came at supper time. It pittered pattered on the deck roof. A breeze came up, stirring the purple petunias on the deck railing. It was a pretty sight. Distant thunder rumbled and lightning flashed. It was a dramatic and romantic backdrop to our evening meal.
The heavens gathered more force through the evening and night. The wind grew and the rain poured. Thunder and lightning continued to play and grumble across the sky. Was it God reminding us to mind how we walk on this earth? Was He sending the artilleries because we are such fools and don’t listen well?
He has my attention. Now I know why I was sleepless. I was feeling his tension – his wrath as he brewed over his children. He has exploded, the storm over – still gifting us his tears to wet the dry earth. I feel relief.