Rain falling from fat, gray clouds. Drum, drum, drumming on the roof. It's staccato beat is reassuring: it's warm and cozy inside. And dry. The smell of meatloaf baking in the oven wafts through the house, lending its fragrance to the sensory joys of being at home in a rain storm.
Candles flicker in the gathering dusk. Familiar sounds punctuate the silence: the washer and dryer humming as they work, a basketball game on TV, and my fingers pushing the keys on the computer. Familiar and safe and restful sounds.
Life is full of familiar things. Things that have become too familiar, perhaps. Sights and sounds and smells that need to be noticed and appreciated because they are truly the fabric of life. And it's a complex fabric, tightly woven and durable and long-lasting.
I have lived here for most of my life but, until recently, I didn't look at the mountains every day. And now, I do. Today they were beautiful, bluish tinted with caps of snow. And then their caps disappeared behind the fat, gray clouds that engulfed them. Last night, those same clouds were a fierce orange in the glow of sunset...
Simple things, daily things, familiar things....that mystify, and cause awe, and brighten each and every day.
Rain or shine....