The sun has come out! For the first time in four months! Well, actually, more like four days! 'Tis time for celebration. And looking at those black clouds just knitting together in time for the school run, I'd better be quick.
What to do first? Hoover the car (job waiting for the rain to stop)? Get some gardening done? Clean the windows? Nip to the shop?
Since the sun has lit up a billion little dust-motes floating in the air, maybe I'd better dust.
Or I could just sit here and admire the sun on the flowers on the windowsill. There are pink and yellow alstroemeria lit from behind and the dark red veins on the petals are standing out dramatically. I didn't know (until I just googled 'alstroemeria' to find out how it was spelled) that it is considered a symbol of friendship. Apparently the leaves grow upside down out of the stem, then twist until the top faces upwards. (This nugget of information actually had me leave the sofa to look more closely - and it's true!)
Since the rain has stopped (I know what you're doing there. It may have stopped now but in a few minutes when I put on my coat for the school run, you've got another humorous cloudburst planned, haven't you?). Since the rain has stopped, the birds are all over the garden. An area newly dug by my husband is a rich source of worms and the blackbirds and sparrows and robins are all over it. On the bird table jackdaws and magpies are bullying the tits away for the bread that Mum put out this morning. The neighbours' cats lurk under the bushes, tempted out through the catflap by the birds but they don't like it much because of the shower they get when they brush up against the branches.
I see you. I see you when you open my eyes to see. Just lounging here on the sofa with my computer and a ray of sunlight dazzled me for the first time in days and days. You just dropped in to say hello, didn't you?
You smiled. You wanted me to look up and see the beauty. After the rain the colours are always more vibrant, sharper, more vivid. While the rain tips down as heavily as it has recently everything is grey. For a moment this afternoon the colour came back.
Gone again now, because it's time to collect my girls from school. Time to put on the raincoat and retrieve the damp umbrella from the cloakroom sink. Find my boots and haul them on. Zip up, wrap up, head down.
Ah well. It was a little moment. A ray of sunlight fell across my keyboard and I saw a little bit of light in a dull, dreary day. Thankyou. Thankyou that you reached down and lifted my head to see the light on the flowers, the birds, the glistening rain on the leaves. Thankyou that you never leave me, even when it's dark as dark and I'm feeling dismal.
The first drops are on the window again. Here comes the rain.
What a sense of humour you have.