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RAIN, RAIN, MIGHT AS WELL STAY ©By Russ





A tiny avacado colored bird darts in and out of the red berry bush. It moves far too fast for me to identify. A chickadee follows close behind, looking as if it is playing a game of tag, instead of keeping a safe distance from me. The rain falls steadily down, and despite the cold gray sky, every growing thing is bright and alive. A large raven swoops low over the house, spots me and veers away, dissapearing into the thicket at the crest of the hill. A smallish hawk with a long tail hovers just overhead, emits a piercing scream, and then it too departs. Grape vines planted along the picket fence are sending out pale green leaves. The young fig tree is doing the same, and reaches out of the shadows by the mail box towards the light. Misty refuses to come inside and curls up in a tight wet ball under the wild rose by the gate, where she'll wait for Em to return and I leave her in peace where she is. Em’s tangerine and white colored cat is sleeping on the porch. He won’t go near the rose bush until summer is here, and then just to sleep in the cool shade. A new rose bush climbs the trellis, reaching higher and higher, its crimson blossoms unfolding one at a time. And I begin to understand a bit more about this thing called life, when I see how beautiful bright warm colors are, against a backdrop of cold gray.
Russ





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