The Rainy Day

On a particularly dark day Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote these poignant words:

The Rainy Day

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
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Although it isn't actually raining here in the field, it is still just as foggy as it was when I awoke early this morning. The day has followed along those lines since then.

I feel as I understand one might feel with a bit of a hangover and a touch of flu today. I'm not sure what brings it on because this weekend was as others are, but this morning saw me wake up without really waking up. I dragged myself around the place with my eyes half closed and my head swimming. A look outside tells me its the same out there as it is in here, and so I half sleep when I sit in chairs and stumble about when I'm not.

I do suppose as Henry tells, that some days must be dark and dreary. Can you imagine a life where each day is sunshine and moonbeams? Where would the texture be? The depth, the challenge, the highs and lows?

No, it's just the order of life working itself out where I live. And if I am tired, as I constantly tell herself, then I should sleep because it's my body communicating it's weariness and I should respond appropriately. But I just seem to fade in and out of rest with no depth of sleep to help heal whats needed.

So it seems that I have just offered to make the potatoes for supper. So I'll get my tired haunches off the chair and see what is to be done with them.

In the mean time Henry, your words were not so far off for a guy living in the snow and fog, in a field.