Tag Archives: Rain

190. Listen! the wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves… ~Humbert Wolfe

by

15

Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!
One mellow smile through the soft vapory air. . .
Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee
Shall murmur by the hedge that skirts the way,
The cricket chirp upon the russet lea,
And man delight to linger in thy ray.
Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear
The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air.
~William Cullen Bryant

Image

What a season of contrasts autumn is!  Many of its striking contradistinctions and “mellow smiles” can be seen on a single day, and yesterday was a fascinating example of Fall’s many faces.  Early in the morning the sky was a clear, brilliant blue, and as I wandered the yard I found a butterfly prettily perched on the leaves of a climbing rose.  Then the winds picked up and threatening clouds blew in.  About 30 minutes later, a narrow band of rain clouds passed over us leaving not a single drop, however, in their wake.  Afterwards the sun sat smiling again in the sapphire sky, but it was streaked with a few bands of Cirrus clouds.  Not too long after that the stormy/clear scenario repeated itself.  Finally late in the afternoon a blustery wind blew down like rain more of the yellow leaves off the willow tree as it chased the sun away for good.  What had been an almost balmy day in the mid-70‘s had rapidly changed, and the bite of the chilling north wind stung my unsuitably-clad body when I went out to unplug the fountain and close up the greenhouse.

He(God) wraps us the waters in his clouds, yet the clouds do not burst under their weight.  ~Job 26:8  ✝

180. The great man is he who does not lose his child’s heart. ~Mencius, Chinese philosopher and sage

by

7

Image

rainy days
magical rainy days
pitter-patter, pitter-patter

puddles forming everywhere
bouncing droplets on the ground
pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter

water gushing off old, rusty gutters
wind chimes whirling around and around
bowers bending from heavy showers, pitter-patter

each drop a tiny dancer bobbing up and down
tiny rivers flowing between stones on a garden path
beads forming along the tendrils of a grapevine, pitter-patter

rumbling, grumbling thunder; flashes of cool, clean air in the face
tree branches bending close to the ground; soothing sounds all around
vague memories of wet beginnings forever draw me to the rain, pitter-patter

As I the rain started to fall today, I noticed it began with a few drops here and a few drops there.  Then there were a few more more and then more and more until finally it was falling steadily all around.  It was like it was building up momentum and so as I watched, I let my words fall on the page in a similar manner while watching the effects of its progression.  What I wanted to do was imitate the pleasant sights and sounds that kept cropping up as the rain fell heavier and heavier.  Frivolous and silly perhaps but every now and then I think we need to remember the kinds of simple pleasure we enjoyed as children.

When they see among them their children, the work of My hands, they will keep My name holy. . and will stand in awe of the God of Israel.  ~Isaiah 29:23  ✝

179. November’s sky is chill and drear, November’s leaf is red and sear. ~Sir Walter Scott

by

6

Pleasures lie thickest where no pleasures seem:
There’s not a leaf that falls upon the ground
But holds some joy of silence of sound,
Some spirits begotten of a summer dream.
~Laman Blanchard

Image

The first Sunday of November had been running out like slow, thick molasses as deepening autumn’s shades of gray hung on it like a shroud.  Even the flocks of busying birds and the foraging squirrels succumbed, as did I, to the hypnotic laziness of the day’s dark, engulfing gloom.  However, things became a little livelier for a time late in the day when the cement on the patio became a dance floor filled with tiny rain-drop dancers jitterbugging to the short-lived “drippy” rhythms.  After the rainy spell light broke briefly through the clouds, and it was enough to highlight a few colorful leaves and a potted petunia.  Together those two sights interjected a touch of color while the wrought-iron furniture that glistened in the light added a bit of beaded elegance to the drab scene.  How sweetly even a token display of earth’s delights can thrill this observer!

Surely then you will find delight in the Almighty and will lift up your face to God.  ~Job 22:26  ✝

178. All the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today and yesterday. ~Chinese Proverb

by

2

In the garden the door is always open into the holy –
growth, birth, death.
Every flower holds the whole mystery in its short cycle,
and in the garden we are never far away from death,
fertilizing, good, creative death.
~May Sarton

Image

Every year the unseen becomes visible as new life explodes from quiet, dark, sustaining wombs.  Beneath the soil roots grow and above the surface tiny leaves yield proof of life.  Enlivening rains come, and the leaves grow.  Daylight hours lengthen, and they grow more.  Amid the leaves emerge buds, and they grow.  Buds burst into flowers, the flowers fade, and their petals fall.  Fruits, seed heads, or pods appear, and they ripen.  Fruits are harvested, seeds are spilled onto the soil, and buds are set inside woody canes or branches.  Then comes the time of rest, the discontinuance of the same, the different new genesis.  The beginnings, the middles, the ends–never an ending without a beginning–never a beginning without an ending, so goes the cyclic constancy of a garden.

The land produced vegetation; plants bearing seed according to its kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds.  And God saw that it was good.  ~Genesis 1:12  ✝

173. I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. ~Lucy Maud Montgomery

by

7

Autumn, that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence
on the mind of taste and tenderness,
that season which has drawn from every poet,
worthy of being read,
some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling.
~Jane Austen

Image

While the summer sun reigned high in the heavens, the trailing vines of Cucurbita inched along the ground.  Its flowers were pollinated, and then its fruits began to grow.  Tendrils on the vines helped anchor the rambler and protect them from the wind.  The leaves of the vines absorbed energy from the sun to spur the growth of the fruits, and the stems worked like umbilical cords to bring nutrients to the fruits while the thin and shiny outer layer of the fruits protected them from insects and disease.  As summer wound down, the ripening gourds began turning a spectacular color of orange, at least the traditional ones.  Then after the autumnal equinox, north winds venturing out of their haunts moved southward.  Along the way they gathered a fair measure of clouds; rain from the clouds greened the landscape; days became noticeably shorter; temperatures dropped below previous three digit highs; skies regained deeper hues; dawns became chillier; and the inimitable pumpkin, having been nipped off its vine, appeared on roadside stands and in grocery stores.  How I love Octobers and the whole autumn experience; hardly a day goes by that I don’t turn my eyes upward in praise, drop to my knees in thanksgiving, and wish I could throw my arms in adoration around  the Lord of all Creation!

May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you.  Then the land will yield its harvest, and God, our God, will bless us.  ~Psalm 67:5-6  ✝

172. Over everything connected with autumn there lingers some golden spell–some unseen influence that penetrates the soul with its mysterious power. ~Northern Advocate

by

8

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stain’d
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune they jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.
~William Blake, English poet

Image

*Photo courtesy Mike Bizeau

Lusty indeed is the dance of the year’s 4th child!  Escalating as she goes, she regales herself in glorious colors, and whilst strutting her hour upon earth’s stage, she reigns in majesty.  As she prepares the land for its Sabbath, her chariot enters the eastern sky at dawn with pink and purple banners flying high or she comes veiled in gray from a fog or torrents of rain.  Then after day is done she exits on the western horizon in mellow twilight, or in a blaze of red and gold, or swallowed up in the wetness of massive clouds.  When not thundering “mournful melodies” for all to hear, she’s belting out songs of joyfulness until she perishes in deep December softly playing “the harps of leafless trees.”

There is pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is rapture in the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar;
I love not man less, but Nature more,
~Lord Byron, English poet

It wasn’t until Mike Bizeau posted this photo of fall-colored succulents along a beach north of Mendocino, California, that I realized lusty autumn not only sings in forests and gardens but also in places on the “lonely shore.”  What a splendid artist is the holy Yahweh!

Sing to Him, sing praise to Him; tell all of His wonderful acts.  ~1 Chronicles 16:9  ✝

164. Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love — that makes life and nature harmonize. ~George Eliot

by

13

Delicious autumn!
My very soul is wedded to it,
and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth
seeking the successive autumns.
~George Eliot

**I was hoping you could see that the morning glory below, heavy with dew after the rain, was an awesome, pink delight to behold, but the image is too smalll here for you to see its alluring sparkle.

Image

Northerly winds in the night blew our gray, rain-bearing clouds away, and the day dawned under a fresh, China blue sky.  Layers of dust that had been blowing in on southerly winds for weeks were washed away, sent back to the soil from whence they came.  As a result heaven’s dome along with the landscape looked sparkling clean and pristine.  In the day’s early light growing green things shined greener, new growth pushed up on rose canes, seedlings appeared in soil once parched and cracked by summer’s fiendish assaults.   Wildlife, though always smaller in number in October, flew, crawled, and buzzed with renewed energy and enthusiasm in the aftermath of the recent slow, soaking rains.  And so with a bit of an almost frosty nip in the air, this day evolved into our first quintessential, autumn day.  How, then, on such a day, could the early call to venture out in the yard, camera in hand, have been ignored?  Or how could it have been a surprise that the vignettes I found were so exquisite that all I could muster, with eyes blurred by joyful tears, was praise for the Holy One whose presence amidst the glory was sweetly palpable?

Let them give thanks to the Lord for His unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind.  Let them sacrifice thank offerings and tell of his works with songs of joy.  ~Psalm 107:21-22  ✝

163. The only noise now was the rain, pattering softly with the magnificent indifference of nature for the tangled passions of humans. ~Sherwood Smith

by

8

The richness of the rain made me feel safe and protected;
I have always considered the rain to be
healing–a blanket–the comfort of a friend.
Without at least some rain…I yearn
for the vital, muffling gift of falling water.
~Douglas Coupland

Image

It’s apparent after yesterday’s post that I love everything about the phenomenon of rain–the sound of it, the sensual feel of it, the look of it, the smell of it.  But when it comes to rain, it is not simply a love affair in the heart.  It is a worshipful adoration I feel deep down in my soul.  Especially after the long of absence of rain from my world, it is extremely comforting and reassuring to hear the “pitter-pattering” sounds of it falling on the ground, on the rooftop, on the window panes.  Watching it makes me feel as though I’m witnessing, first hand, cascading miracles; listening to it washes through my being like a healing balm that quiets the disturbing sense of separateness from the sacred;  the “sweet tears of heaven” cannot even be ignored in my sleep.

Praise the Lord!  Autumn’s rain has furthered Spring’s promise.  Rejoice.  The evidence of God’s faithfulness has blanketed the land.  Rejoice.  God’s in His heaven and our Savior sits at His right hand.  Rejoice.  The Creator of heaven and earth adores and watches over all that He has made.  Rejoice.

This is the day which the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.  ~Psalm 118:24  ✝

162. All was silent as before — All was silent save the dripping rain. ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

by

7

But the true lover of rain…has a deep inner enjoyment of the rain, as rain, and his sense of its beauty drinks it in as thirstily as does the drinking earth.  It refreshes and cools his heart and brain; he longs to go forth into the fields, to feel its steady stream, to scent its fragrance; to stand under some heavy-foilaged chestnut-tree, and hear the rushing music on the crowded leaves.  ~John Richard Vernon

**One of my readers just sent me to a website which has a slowed down audio clip of crickets chirping.   It’s amazing to hear that they sound like an angelic choir reminiscent of gregrorian chanters.  If you’d like to listen, you’ll find it at:  www.soundcloud.com/acornavi/robert-wilson-crickets-audio

Image

I like to think of the universe as a cosmic temple and of planet earth as a sanctuary in that temple.  Though not given the power of speech as such, rain and other weather-related phenomena exhibit distinctive voices under heaven’s dome, and as they fall from earth’s chaotic atmosphere, they often blend their unique voices with other holy sounds in the natural world.  I believe that in that sacred chorus is a call to humanity to seek the Maker of the temple because God not only hardwired man with a desire to connect with other human beings but also with a  longing to seek and connect with Him whose breath gave him life. To that end man was given eyes to witness the sacraments of heaven and earth, ears to hear the chants of their hallowed voices, intellect to question and understand much of what is seen and heard, and a heart that in due time turns from irreverence to longing.  Tecumseh, a leader of the Shawnee, said, “Nature is so powerful, so strong.  Capturing the essence is not easy – your work becomes a dance with light and the weather.  It takes you to a place within yourself.”

Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants.  ~Deuteronomy 32:2  ✝

147. If you wish to know the Creator, come to know His creatures. ~Columbanus, 6th century Irish monk

by

9

A flash of harmless lightning,
A mist of rainbow dyes,
The burnished sunbeams brightening
From flower to flower he flies.
~John Banister Tabb, Roman Catholic priest,
poet and professor of English

Image

Tabb’s description is of a hummingbird, but it could be said as well of bees, butterflies, and dragonflies, hordes of which I’ve seen of late.   Gulf fritillaries and an assortment of swallowtails have been flitting around the garden for weeks.  Then today I spotted the first monarchs which means their migration from Canada to overwintering grounds in Mexico has begun.  I’m guessing the reappearance of the dragonflies is because recent rains have filled their breeding grounds again with enough water for their nymphs.  The bees are back in greater numbers because the cooler temperatures are encouraging more and more blooms, and as for the hummers, two or three at a time have been coming to our feeder since early August.

John Philip Newell says, “the inclusion of creatures in the garden of God in Genesis is pointing not simply to the outward dimension of the creaturely realm.  It is also showing something of the way of God’s seeing or sensing. . .”  That’s why I I love my garden.  It’s not just about the flowers.  Spending time therein lets me be near all God created and keeps me wanting to know more of the Lord and that which is important to Him.

“But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds of the sky, and they will tell you; or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea inform you. . .”  ~Job 12:7-8  ✝