In the rain

I don’t mind the rain.

The marigolds on my porch drink with a passionate thirst.  I understand their greed.  Standing on the porch watching the wind blow the flag, I let the air buffet my spirits.  The hour passes; I should be getting ready for work.  But I linger.

My grass has begun to look shaggy again.  The new lawn guys had me on the schedule for today, but the rain derailed that plan.  I don’t mind.  I bought a soaker hose to insure my perennials take hold in their bed.  This rain will nourish them better than I could, and more cheaply.

I shiver in my sleeping clothes in the chilly morning air.  A mild light surrounds me as the sun struggles through the clouds.  The trees of our neighborhood sway in the wind.  My flag glistens in the spotlight shining on it, waving, its new pole sturdy against the storm.

Inside the house, the radio babbles about the election, the courts, the local happenings.  I pay it no heed.  The morning rain surrounds me.  I am content.

It’s the twenty-fourth day of the twenty-ninth month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.

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