Old Song

Pale striations of cloud join the stars as the moon sets. I can smell the damp that permeates the soil. There are more crickets tonight, though they are not yet so numerous as to make a continuous noise, and they still chirp slowly. Night is placid and dim, the landscape vague, the houses barely visible- mere fragments that emerge from the darkness. Without movement, the air yet makes itself known by its chill. I can hear myself breathing. The rain which has made the earth release its scent has been here before, countless times. I sense the moisture rising, sucked by roots, moving through vegetable capillaries, seeking the leaves from which it will return to the air to drift and gather and fall again. I am aware of the crickets moving in the grassy jungles of the lawn, treading the damp, deep-shadowed soil under the bushes. The song I hear has not ceased in ages, and the vapor I inhale is far more ancient still. A moth flutters so near that I feel the brush of its wing. Suddenly, the stars have drawn very close.

Rainy Day

The rain has returned for yet another day. I am not displeased that this has become one of the wettest Mays I can recall. Spring rain is my favorite rain, and the long hours of daylight give me ample opportunity to enjoy it. Today, it has arrived mostly as steady drizzle, though there have been a few periods when it has softened to sprinkles that are little more than heavy mist. That's when I like it best, as I can go out and walk the gray, reflective pavement and inspect the bejeweled spider webs concealed in wet bushes, without becoming utterly soaked. The one thing lacking today was a nice sun shower, the clouds never having thinned. Still, the scene was similar to that of a few weeks ago, when took this snapshot from my front porch, just as the sun was emerging during a splendid downpour which turned out to be the last gasp of an April storm.

(Click through for large size.)

April Shower Emerging afternoon sun backlights the rain.