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| Here Comes The Rain or Snow by © moon_grace I miss my grandfather. He was a rather quiet man with coal black hair. At least what was left of it stayed coal black until the day he died. When I was small, I always wondered why his skin was so much darker than all the rest of us who were so pale. I was pretty old before the word Cherokee was ever spoken. Shame. I do miss him. I miss sitting in the garage on the dirt floor and playing with a piece of wood and a brace and bit set while he made cabinets or other things. Never let me near his saws, though. That's ok. I grew up. Grew up and bought my own saws and sanders and assorted wood working tools. There is something about the smell of the wood when you are working it. It gets in your blood. I remember sitting in the garage with grandpa and learning about the weather. Only a small thing, I know, but was something we shared. If the birds would light on the ground and eat in a frenzied flock or suddenly all flock to a tree..he would say, "Rain coming." I would ask him, how do you KNOW?" "I got it from the birds" he would say. Sure enough, it would rain. Then there was the clouds. I know them now to be cirrus clouds, but I knew them first as "mare's tails." "Mare's tails in the sky, rain in three days." Sure enough, it would rain. The last one he taught me as we were driving down the road. There weren't seat belts then. He would say, "Better put on your seat belt. Rain coming." "How do you KNOW" "Look at the trees. The leaves are turned up. They're getting ready to catch the rain." Sure enough, it would rain. I wonder now, how much I missed that he tried to teach me when I was too young to understand. Well now, no use in looking back and mourning over what might have been. I do miss him... especially when I look around me and see and say to the kids here..."Rain coming." Take care out there... moon_grace. |
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