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Rainy Weekend

Rainy Weekend

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The weather in my corner of the world makes me think of a slightly altered cliche — you can’t keep a good climate down. The D.C. area is rich in sunshine, low in cloud cover and, at least for the last month or so, short on rain. Which means that last weekend’s wall-to-wall showers were quite welcome.

I made soup, culled old files, and washed and dried clothes to give away. The rain and cloud cover gave me permission to stay inside. It lent a coziness to time’s passage, blurred its edges. 

A quick glance at the weather forecast tells me we’re expecting clouds and rain for the next two days. Who knows what I might accomplish?! 

Late August

Late August

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It’s warm and slightly muggy today but the cicadas are quiet, the children are, too. It’s the first day of school in Fairfax County.

It’s early this year. When our children were young, they never went back until the day after Labor Day, which meant that this last week of August was the one when we’d  buy school supplies, learn about teachers and schedules, take one last trip to the pool.

It’s a desultory time, summer’s last gasp. The zinnias are leggy, the mint has bolted, and brown leaves are sifting down from the dying oak. 

How can summer be ending? There must be some mistake!

May Chauvinist

May Chauvinist

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I know I’m a May (as opposed  to male) chauvinist, but really, what’s not to like about this month?

The climbing rose is blooming its heart out. The Big Heat is just getting warmed up (though it’s early this year, will be 95 here today). And the air is scented with honeysuckle flower.

Schools are letting out, vacations are beginning, days are long and languid. 

I’m grateful to be embarking upon another trip around the sun today. I just snuck into May … but I’m glad I did. 

Basement Time

Basement Time

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I spent some time in the basement today, following the advice of my phone, which was blasting a shrill tone and notifying me of a tornado warning in my neighborhood. 

The skies have been unsettled, and the warm humid air made me think there was some cause for concern, so I scampered downstairs and used the elliptical until the warning passed and I could come upstairs again.

Though my experience of tornados has been limited (some close calls plus a terrifying derecho),  I generally hop to it when a windstorm is said to be in the neighborhood. 

My basement is not a paradise, but it is, well, below ground. 

Calm after the Storm

Calm after the Storm

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We were pelted overnight by some much-needed rain. I could hear it beating the earth, could imagine it puddling on the driveway and in the low spots of the front yard. 

This morning the world looks fresh and clean. The azaleas are greening, shedding their brilliant jewel-toned flowers and becoming the sedate shrubs they are for most of the year. 

It’s a quiet, still day so far, the calm after the storm. Which at this point is … most welcome. 

Warmer Amble

Warmer Amble

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It’s a sunny day that begs to be explored, and I have my usual dilemma: to move the muscles or exercise the mind. The mind usually comes first these days, because I start inside and it’s easier to stay here for a few hours. 

And as bright as the light is, streaming into this morning room, the purring furnace tells me it’s still cold out there. I’m happy to wait until it’s purring a little less before I venture out.

Yesterday’s stroll was a hurried one: I threw on a down vest and dashed out the door. It wasn’t until I rounded the corner that I realized I needed a hat and gloves.

The frigid fast-walk refreshes and energizes … but I’m hoping for a warmer amble today. 

The Good Fight

The Good Fight

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So far, April is proving to be as wet as March was windy. The months are playing their usual roles, in other words. 

I feel a certain responsibility on rainy days: unless otherwise occupied, I should use them for cleaning closets or going through old files in the basement. 

Which means that after I’ve written, and after I’ve studied, and after I’ve made today’s calls and sent today’s emails, I must get myself to the nether regions of the house … and fight the good fight.

Winter Again

Winter Again

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From shorts to shudders: that’s what the weather has given us in the last 24 hours. Yesterday, Lexingtonians were bopping around in t-shirts and cut-offs. Today they’re donning parkas and gloves.

For many people in the middle to eastern half of the country, Standard Time is going out with a bang — wind chills in the teens and (at least in Lexington) five or so inches of snow on the ground.

It’s a good day to stay inside and visit with family, which is what I’m doing. 

The sun is bright and there’s a warmup in the forecast but, at least for now, it’s winter again.

(You’d have to look hard to see crocuses blooming today.)

Untidy Course

Untidy Course

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A few days of unseasonably warm weather meant I slept last night with open windows and the early spring air flowing through the room. It reminded me of warm days to come and the freedom of being at one with the outdoors.

It’s another story this morning. Colder and more seasonable air has moved in and the newly popped daffodil blossoms are shivering on their stems.

A good reminder of the halting, sidewise, untidy course of progress.

(Snowdrops along Reston trail.) 

Without the Directions

Without the Directions

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On a doggie walk this morning I was stopped short in my tracks. Tree limbs were shiny, glazed with ice. It was unexpected and almost magical.

It was the best of both worlds, too, because the pavement wasn’t affected. There was friction on the driveway, fairyland up above.

I hadn’t known this was coming, hadn’t read weather reports that freezing rain was in the forecast.

It struck me then, and I second it now, that life is more exciting when we forget to read the directions.