after the rain

“There, about a dozen times during the day,
the wind drives over the sky the swollen clouds,
which water the earth copiously, after which the sun shines brightly,
as if freshly bathed, and floods with a golden luster the rocks,
the river, the trees, and the entire jungle.”

Henryk Sienkiewicz, In Desert and Wilderness

“Is the spring coming?” he said.
“What is it like?”…
“It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”

Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden


(the Mt. Mitchell range after the rains/ Julie Cook / 2023)

this is from a post I wrote one April morning 8 years ago…

When life has been demanding and there seems to be no time to self…
No time for…
noticing,
reflecting,
observing,
savoring…
No moments for a luxuriously exhaled Ahhhhhhhhhhhh…

It is at just that precise moment…
that single moment between breaking apart and holding on…
when eyes have glazed over,
nerves are at their rawest and stress is out the roof…
At that very and utter almost unbearable, catastrophic, breaking moment,
it is then…that it happens. . .
The familiar, the comforting, the nostalgic slips gently back into place…

An old familiar friend returns.
You find that long forgotten item of fuzzy feelings and internal warmth.
Happy loving memories come flooding to the forefront of the heart.
It is at that single miraculously wonderful moment that suddenly…all is once again,
right with the world…and you find that you can hang on one more day…

And so it seems as if I’ve stumbled across that previous post at a rather
fitting juncture in my life…a time that finds me at the proverbial fork in
the road.

It is fitting because after this previous winter…a winter that,
like most winters, vies to keep a tight hold on all that is…
holding on to the bleak, raw and barren…

And much like this previous year…a year not unlike others that has
often left me wondering if I could indeed avoid that seemingly inevitable
catastrophic breaking point…

A rain, not necessarily a storm mind you,
but rather a good old fashioned heavily grey, saturating rain comes along…

And it is precisely when those very final drops of rain are wrested and wrung
freely from what was just moments before thick and consuming,
that clarity is amazingly revealed.

For what was mere breaths prior cumbersome shades of all things tonal and dull…
is now suddenly washed anew. Scales fall from weary eyes unaccustomed to that
which is now brilliant and glistening.

A season has passed in the blink of an eye and all that was, just moments before
heavy uncomfortable and unbearable, radiates through a million freshly fallen
prisms.
Rays of blinding pure white light now bend on command as the colors of all
that was and all that is and all that will be, breaks anew…
reminding each of us that we can indeed hold on for just one more day…
hanging on with youthful expectation rather than aged trepidation.

All things now made new…

“Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43:18-19

on the move

I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand,
as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of heaven,
we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it–
but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.


(a plethora of piping plovers / Julie Cook / 2021)

Since the notion of moving has been my current train of thought, I certainly appreciated
seeing these little guys doing much the same…
They always make me smile.
Smiles are good!


(piping plovers / Rosemary Beach, FL / Julie Cook / 2021

“Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43:18-19