First contact from emerald in almost 3 weeks. Strange, it’s always nice to talk to her, but the situation at times is so laced with artifice, I wonder why I even bother.
“The day has passed through sprinkling, raining, pouring, cycling from querrelous to quiescent. I fell asleep this morning lulled by the first storm this autumn has produced, I woke at dusk to see the red haze of eager stormclouds. From the rhythmic drumbeats across the roof to the stacatto static coursing across asphalt, I welcome a too-long absent visitor.
And as I watch the moonlit droplets beat the ground, I marvel at the idea that the lawn needs further watering; yet on schedule the sprinklers came on this morning. A jealous competition for mastery of its life, but who can ever do better than nature what it does best?�
I like that imagery. Comforting, it rolls me up like a mothers arms never did, embracing me with warmer times and happier moments. Maybe I will get back there again.
