…you know the rest. The dry spell has been replaced by abundance, or at least the seeds. I am surrounded, big-windowed, by weather and its effects so why not tread the worn boards of this metaphor? The wet leaves applaud a day of rain, shake off summer’s dust, singing ‘school!’ Thinking ‘river’ I think too of my recently completed Japanese garden segment, thinking ‘wind’ I honour the mood of the day at hand.
An impromtu verse on rivers is in Reading Room. How many rivers have I crossed without wading in and getting wet? Have you too stepped in water so cold the pain goes straight to your head, without the joy of ice-cream? Have you too asked, why this pain? Rivers and rain, trees and bridges, leaves and water whispering secrets, windchimes suddenly strident, calling ‘listen to me!’ Where shall I turn first?