“Minutes before the rain begins/I always waken, listening/to the world hold its breath,” – Lianne Spidel, “Before the Rain”
There it is again, the rain falls on the leaves outside in the dark, I sit inside in the light of the kitchen, waiting for the rain’s breath, waiting for streams of water off the roof to invade the garden and hang, suspended, on the leaves of the salal and the needles of the fir tree. It was not that long ago, I tell myself, that this Northwest forest blanketed the land on which I sit today, with my coffee, in my kitchen, looking out the window at the softly falling rain, and think about all the rain has seen in the thousands of unpopulated years before we came here.
Inspired by Diamonds upon leaves, look around! blog.