Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Sweet Sorrow

Don't want to say goodbye!  "Parting is such sweet sorrow."  We linger, savoring the moments, intending that this space in time will continue on uninterrupted.  Forever.  But the only thing that is for sure is change.  We will be parted, summer and we.

The laundry is nearly dry before it is hung!
Our dry, blue skies have been an amazement to visitors, to Portland folks in general, and especially to the weather forecasters.  And we, as we read the forecast in the paper, day after day, week after week, month after month figure we must be three sheets to the wind to see uninterrupted sunshine for nearly all of three months.  Sun worshippers are in heaven.  Rain lovers are nervous.

Daily humidity for our area averages 50-60%.  Of late it has been for weeks now between 10 and 20%.  Line-dried laundry freak that I am, this has been bliss.  My garden, flowers and grass are not so happy.  And, I admit to being a rain lover.

For the past two or three weeks the Things I get to do today include spending a few moments each day deep in my imagination, smelling the rain, listening to its patter on leaves and roofs, hearing it gurgle down the gutters and into the empty rain barrels, seeing the plants bask in the life-giving moisture.  The weather forecasters say the dry blue will be gone on Friday.  Showers, they say. Rain, they say.  Thank you to all heaven, I say.

PS: This morning's newspaper says we could have up to 3 inches of rain this weekend. Perhaps I've overdone it!


  1. dearest andrea: perhaps the rain we've had the last couple weeks have been merely misguided -- meant to go your way, but instead came mine! since you love rain, i promise to send it back: ASAP!
    our foliage is turning, is turned, all reds, golds, yellows, intensified by the light spread by the rain and overcast skies. not so hard that Robbie won't go outside, he of a traditionally moist terrain but he doesn't like the feel of rain on his back. now i see: all these weeks i should have been drying my laundry spread out between chairs on the deck! over the deck railings! too bad, karen: no chance now for some weeks, so sniff memory sheets, dry off after my morning shower with pretend air-roughed towels. make plans for next, karen and wee robbie

    1. Well, the rain's a comin' they tell us. I can see your colors in my mind's eye. Charmed we all are by your descriptions. Thank you! And thanks for the rain. It will arrive special delivery on Friday. Love, Andrea

  2. Your words lured us in.
    As they say- "there is a time for everything."
    You have painted a beautiful painting that we feel.
    We are rain lovers too.
    Were thankful also for the gift of the blue sky and sun- but now we are reaching out for the rain. The forest is so thirsty.

    1. Thanks for checking in, Tweedles! I'm not fond on the crunching of grass and twigs and needles from the trees under my feet as I walk. Rain softens things. I like soft. I bet you do, too.

  3. I too, love the rain, and honestly can't live without it. I get down and out after a few weeks without it. Oh, how I miss hanging clothes on the line. We have so many trees, there is hardly a place to put a clothes line these days. Good memories.

    1. You and I both know that the sun worshippers have forgotten the value of the rain. It's a fine balance to be sure.

      Find yourself two sturdy surfaces somewhere and anchor on each a little eye screw. Then fasten up a little line that can be undone the moment things are dry. Just a few items hung in the fresh air can feed your soul for weeks!