The Gifts of Rainy Days

Low, gray clouds fill my morning sky again, not so thick as to be ominous but not so thin as to let the sunrise peak underneath. Fourteen of the last Fifteen days. Light rain, off and on, cool temperatures and a lot of gray. I lie on my floor and dream of big swashes of yellow brightening up my world. The gray conditions can weigh on my emotions and make fertile ground for sadness and loss to be held, comforted and processed.

The gifts are not always obvious but they are also many. It is cool - I had to get the turtleneck and wool hat back out of their summer drawers! I can’t remember doing at the end of May before. The cool air has kept the weather volatility low and I am very grateful for the lack of severe thunderstorms and tornadoes.

This has been a time for rest, at a time I sometimes feel very un-rested. For three months from mid-February to mid-May sunrise relentlessly moves nearly three full hours earlier, 10-15 minutes every week. Now the sunrise has arrived at a stable summer place, coming five minutes before 6 AM, where it will remain until August when it will start moving back equally quickly. The rain has allowed me to both adjust to this change and to get a little extra sleep.

For the birds too there are gifts in the rainy days. Migration has largely ended and thousands of nests have been built. Eggs too numerous to count have been laid and mother birds everywhere are starting to feed their young with all the worms and bugs that seem to multiple when the earth is damp.

Papa birds are defending their young ones and in many cases helping with the care and feeding of the young. Yesterday was the one sunny day and I found red-winged blackbirds, brown thrashers, robins, barn swallows, chimney swifts, goldfinches, dickcissels and mockingbirds all busy gathering food for their nests.

When the rain ends there will be new gifts - baby birds, dragonflies, butterflies and hopefully once again the sunrise. For now, I will rest.