a rainy day

The roofs in SoCal don't have gutters, so whenever it rains, it makes the most delicious trickling noise outside my window. This morning, I lounged in bed, savoring the smell of the rain, like freshly cut grass. And the mountains were all wrapped in filmy scarves of fog that drifted about all day, sometimes letting the sun peep through. But I was ready for a cloudy day. Yes, I was. It matched my contemplative mood, which decided to come a few days early. Normally that mood is reserved for Mondays. But there was something satisfying about the dripping tiled roof and saturated outdoors. 

I took a walk outside in the mist and Ramona revealed a whole new dimension of herself. It was more subtle than the usual charming sunlight filtering through the bougenvillia framing the front door, but appealing in its own way. There was a little meadow that's popped up in tender blades of grass since the rain, and I couldn't resist trespassing to it. I spun slowly, each turn bringing me a new lush green view. The fog carried some sounds further than seemed possible & muffled others.  I could hear a hundred little frogs chirping from the valley, but none of the normal car sounds from 78. Two coyotes slunk through the brush when they saw me coming. 

Across the valley to the west, terraces of green, green grass shrouded in fog made me think of Ireland. It was just me and the mountains. I didn't feel like I was in Southern California anymore. And please don't misunderstand me when I say that it was a very pleasant feeling. I love SoCal: but I also love a proper rainy day curled up by the fire. And I've no intention of moving out of my chair anytime soon. 

  

Hope your day was as full of beauty.