Last weekend the rains started again. Summers in the Seattle area are dry, almost drought-like, from about the 4th of July until mid-September. This year the rains returned a few week earlys. After a glorious summer it seems churlish to complain. Yet the return of the rains, foreshadowing autumn and a new school year for the kids, punctured summer bliss a little to soon. Michelle, all of eight years old, woke up this morning and told me she felt depressed by the dark cloudy skies and the rain. Anne's brother, Stephen, visiting with us for the last six weeks will be leaving in a few days, heading home to Australia. Another sudden transition. Another ending.
Like the first snowfall, which I loved so much when we lived in Canada, it's possible to enjoy the rain, at least for a little while. The fresh brimming scent it brings as if the very air were going to overflow with it; the lushness it creates transforming the summer's yellows and browns into luminous greens; the soothing sound it makes as the droplets spatter and splash from leaf to branch to ground.
When seasons change suddenly.they bring a sharp reminder of the speedy passage of time, of our own mortality. I feel a whistful tug of regret that somehow I've allowed another one to slip by all too quickly. But I also try to look forward to the scents and sounds each new season brings.
12:24:10 AM
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