Clouds are moving in, the prognosticators are foretelling of rain possibilities today, it’s a pleasant morning coffee muses.
My timing is just right, the sky to the north was mostly blue when I walked out. But, the clouds now cover most of the visible sky.
There’s a Mississippi Kite soaring above. Even when I don’t see him, I can hear his call.
It’s actually pleasant sitting out this morning. The Saturday traffic is light and mostly moving slow on our road. I’m not hearing anything from the bypass.
Words are coming slow this morning…
I was checking my email and had one from Parabola Magazine. and this was the first thing I read…
Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you,
You must travel it by yourself.It is not far. It is within reach.
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know.
Perhaps it is everywhere—on water and land.—Walt Whitman from Leaves of Grass, 1855
It’s nice that when you are looking for words, the universe tosses some your way…
It’s getting late, and we plan on getting out to breakfast while we have the chance…
There’s rain over here already. It’s light, and more showery than anything else, and there’s still some blue sky, but it’s clear that the pattern change they were predicting is here. I’ve got errands to run, but this won’t be any problem, and a few hours of gentle dampening will soften things up for the real rains they say are coming.
My clouds have cleared and the sun is back out. I’ll live with whatever the weather throws at us, we can (almost) always use a little rain this time of year. .. and my grass is still green.