Living in CA it’s easy to get used to the predictability of sun-filled summer days. Afternoon thundershowers up at high elevations – brief if sometimes violent – can break up the blue sky, but the actual sound of thunder… it is the kind of thing worth leaving your desk for in the middle of the working day to run outside in the hopes of catching a flash of lightning inspiration.
This afternoon, the clouds kept things cool, and then right around dinner time we were treated to the gentlest pattering of rain drops – not quite enough to dampen the dirt. I smelled it before I saw or heard anything, that sweet smell of rain on thirsty plants.
I love that once a year the concerned citizenry in our region puts out a public notice asking everyone to slow down for the butterflies. I think this would happen anywhere, in any community, because who isn’t saddened by piles of broken butterfly wings beside the road, but I’m glad that it happens here. I’m glad that people realized that when vehicles slow down to 25 mph, most butterflies are harmlessly swept up over the cars rather than being smashed, and that they take the time to patiently share that knowledge with the rest of us.
A few months ago, T and I made a decision to trade a little extra income that we didn’t really need for a significant increase in quality of life. This meant that T went to part time, doing a little freelance work, and managing the household. What this meant to me is that sometimes now, even on work days amidst deadlines and meeting prep, a plate of carefully crafted french toast (or pancakes) garnished with fresh fruit and topped with real maple syrup suddenly, even magically, appears at my side in the mornings.
There are many other changes in our lives as a result of this decision. We have more time for exercise, for relaxation, for the outdoor adventures that we love, and also, french toast. I am so grateful for morning french toast magic!
The trees outside my window are so happy for the recent rains and warm weather it’s hard not to share their joy, even though they are torturing me with gouts of bright yellow pollen that make my eyes itch and my nose run. I love this marker of the changing seasons anyway. In past years, the pollen has gotten so thick that you can see it billowing on the air, great golden clouds shimmering in the sun. These trees are in the business of making more trees. Even better is when it rains – a short reprieve from allergies and then rain puddles all lined with yellow.
I’m not sure what a 100 Grateful Words really looks like when its typed out onto a page, but I was inspired by the 100 Naked Words … is it called a publication?… on Medium, and I thought I’d give it a try. That’s part of the beauty of the internet, isn’t it? I’m so grateful to have such an easy way to connect with interesting and creative people from all walks of life and to be inspired by the things that they write, draw, paint, photograph, do and think. Thanks especially to 100 Naked Words for this inspiration. I hope I’ll be able to keep it up.