I sat and waited and watched the rain early Friday morning; and meditated, too, by the back door, knowing in my heart, Bruce would take me outside once the rain stopped.
After Bruce washed the dishes (I might add that Susan was out with her Mom.), vacuumed, and ate some egg salad (Yuck!), he edited a few photographs for his websites BirchLane, and BruceBarone,listened to Chicago (!) and Jackson Browne (!!), and then he took me outside. The grass was wet and the air was thick but I didn't mind. The rain still fell, slow and steady, lightly it fell on the grass; barely could I perceive the rain drops, but fell they did on the pink wheelbarrow, the pink table, on Bruce, on me, Nadine.
Today, Bruce will mow the lawn and I will go outside late in the afternoon, when the pine trees are bathed in dappled sunlight and the one rose, still wet with yesterday's rain, is my inspiration, sweet sent to my nose.