I watched the raindrops slide down the window, tiny reflections of the world upside down in each of them. They seemed a perfect analogy for current events, both globally and in my personal life. Beyond them, a blanket of burnt sienna oak leaves, wet with rain, lent a dash of welcome color to the dreary scene.
Fallen leaves played a big part in my life this past week. I shuffled through deep heaps of them at the park, thoughts of friends drifting through my mind. I dug them from the gutters on my house and swept a couple stray ones from my entry floor. I laughed at two fat squirrels digging through them for acorns and heard them rustle as two deer, a buck and a doe, lunged up the south hill as I opened my back door.
The week had been a warm one, probably the last, and I took advantage of it. I set up the saw buck my friend Bob made for me a couple years ago, got out my chain saw, and cut up the fallen tree limbs and branches I’d dragged down the hill the week before. I had about a quarter cord of firewood when I finished, all neatly stacked and covered. I laughed as I thought about what fun that was, and about how glad and grateful I was that I could tackle such things at my age. It’s a good thing, I believe, to celebrate yourself every now and then.
The tapping of the raindrops on my window pane lured me back to them and to the dull, gray light outside, and I found myself recalling other, sadder events that had colored my recent days. A beloved Uncle had passed away, and a remarkable woman who had been my best friend all through high school. Then I learned of the death of the daughter of an acquaintance I’ve known for some time. She was in a class with my son once. And the anniversary of my son’s death is tomorrow. Somewhere in between came the birthday of a cherished friend who died last year and I missed making her favorite coconut cake for her, a long-standing tradition.
I was glad for the rain, for the softness it provided, for the way it told me that sometimes the world seems upside down and all you can do is watch the tears slide down and notice the colors beyond them. In the end, it all balances out. As one of my friends often says, “Life goes on.” Sometimes it rains. And sometime there are golden days that make all the rest of them worth it.
Wishing you a few of the golden ones in the week ahead.
Warmly,
Susan