The rain falls with determination from the darkened sky this morning.
As it hits the ground and grass it echos the sound of "Shusssssssssssssssh."
It's like an old friend has returned to town. A friend I haven't seen since last Autumn.
And it triggers memories. Memories of winter in Southern Ontario. Memories of November in London. Memories of walking home for lunch with my yellow raincoat in grade three.
It looks so light, so gentle, yet it is as strong and constant as the Northern Star. It fell before my birth, and it will fall long after I've fallen.
So the news of today pales in comparison to the power of the rain.
Politicians change sides.
The Queen is in town.
A Pastor has resigned his church.
My brother's getting married.
These things come and go, but next week, next year, next decade, next ... whenever, It will rain again. And somebody will be sitting at her desk early in the morning, thinking about how beautiful it sounds, and she will be flooded with memories.
Just like I am.
Have a good one today.
"Memories of summer in London"
ReplyDeleteCheeky so and so ;-)
Oh yeah, the memories. Lots of 'em. This rain is fabulous in more ways than merely bringing up the level of the water table..
ReplyDeleteA pastor has resigned his church? Not you!?
ReplyDeleteNo Marc, not me!!
ReplyDeleteSheesh, that's how stories get started!
Well, it's not like I was on the phone with everyone after I read this! This post is so reflective, and you've been quite reflective in general lately, that I wondered if the vague reference to a pastor resigning could possibly be you.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, I'm glad (and relieved) you're still sticking around...
I love the rain, too, by the way. What a gorgeous day.
ReplyDelete