Sensory Incantations: Rain

Puddles on the street — a mix of fresh water and dirt shaken loose from tires.

A evergreen pine and oak, stand shoulder-to-shoulder with a bare-boned cherry tree … mute witnesses to the passing seasons? Or willing participants?

Droplets collect on solar panels, lining the black-tiled roof, reflecting the mood of the day: somber, dark, cheerless.

A thick gray blanket overhead that the sun can’t seem to poke through.

The pup stares at me, then turns away — the nothingness outside seems more appealing.

Or was it the solitary mosquito punctuating the stillness that caught his eye?

I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. He loves me unconditionally.

My left ear hurts. The taste of orange cranberry biscotti lingers. Cakey, not crisp, no reason for seconds.

Everything is momentary like this burst of blue and the glaring sunlight … as the clouds part and gather again.