At last a day of clouds willing to weep a little on our parched land. Though the morning began with dribbles, sufficient rain fell throughout the day to refresh my spirit -- and, apparently, enliven the swarming white flies (not native to Oregon, as best I understand the situation) -- they've hatched in numbers not known here. In fact, this is the first year of the thirty-four I've lived here that I've seen any white flies--period. They're a nuisance and small enough to fly into your eye, but they apparently don't bite, don't appear interested in landing on people -- just fly and fly like white dust covering the air.
But, this morning, in that morning dribble and drizzle, I had the honor of walking my granddaughter to school. Brought back fond memories from my own childhood and encourages me to consider offering to walk her to school every day. That tune might change once the real rain and cold arrives, but for today, walking her to school was a gift I treasure.
Laughter and Umbrellas
We walked in the rain today,
granddaughter Riley and me,
she beneath her pink umbrella
me covered by a stately black & white
borrowed from her parents
Not a proper rain
where silver drops splash
in wild patterns, attach wetness
to legs and clothes, when boots
prove more appropriate than shoes;
No, this was a gentle rain
of dribbles widely spaced,
like tea-time with all the fine china
at grandma's house,
not THIS grandma, but back when
such would be considered
a proper afternoon gathering,
a bit like this rain that breathed in
before we were halfway to the school,
our umbrellas retreated, folded
as we crossed at the light,
crossing guard's flag raised,
all cars must stop, as if the red light
won't be enough (and sometimes isn't).
Walk & Bike to school day today
and I earned the honor of walking
with my granddaughter Riley
in the rain, proper or not,
smiling, laughing, chatting non-stop.
What better way to start a day
than with rain and chatter
laughter and umbrellas
walking Miss Riley to school.