Today has been like the left hand of beauty.
Sun-up this morning lightened into a wild and moody sky full of tempest.
The rain came pouring off the roof so hard down the spout it hit a couple of leaves and bits of moss in the drain and bounced right back up the grey-water pipe gurgling into the shower drain in the bathroom. Five minutes with a table fork lifting the choking debris out of the way fixed that, but in that short time my sweater was so sodden wet through I had no choice but to take it off and start again with a clean one.
Laying up the woodstove fire later on in the morning ready for lighting in the afternoon, the raindrops in the stove pipe fell musically, like diffident windchimes who’d never had much practice at singing. Listening to the tinny small voice of the rain, I thought of the colours of storm – indigo and silver, and that wonderful dark purple-grey. In my mind’s eye the picture lingered (still does) of that clear purposeful water gushing down the spout. The autumn rain that (so the psalmist says) clothes the earth with blessings.
And my, so it does! A couple of weeks back, weeding and moving plants around the garden, I marvelled at how dry the ground had become. It looked moist on the surface – the earth dark and damp and the weeds flourishing: but that was all from low-lying cloud and morning mists, just damp enough to give the plants the moisture they needed now fruiting was over. Deeper, round the roots, when we lifted the plants the earth fell away almost like powder.
This soaking drenching, deluging rain clothes the land with blessings. Just what we need.
I went out around tea-time for an armful of logs from the woodstore to keep the stove in through the evening. Fast asleep in the dry nook between the top of the stacked wood and the roof, a neighbourhood cat had curled up out of the wind and rain. A real bruiser of a cat - we know him, he creeps in and sneaks our cats' food when he thinks nobody’s looking.
This indigo silver day, storm-tossed and cool and clear, clothing the land with blessing: the left hand of beauty. Like evening incense the thanks of my heart ascend to Thee, O mystery most high.
And I found this today. Very inspiring, I thought.