MORNING RAIN

Orange poppies in the rain.
“Lie on the bridge and watch the water flowing past. Or run, or wade through the swamp in your red boots. Or roll yourself up and listen to the rain falling on the roof. It’s very easy to enjoy yourself.”
— TOVE JANSSON - MOOMINVALLEY IN NOVEMBER

THE WONDERS OF A RAINY MORNING

 

Doves cooing in the pine tree. 

Sounds of drip . drip . dripping water

Puddles in the cracks of stones. 

Car tires slushing on the road. 

Sparkling drops caught in evergreen branches, 

Low lying clouds hug the hillsides. 

The sounds of a coffee grinder from the kitchen. 

A plane passing overhead is lost in a sea of white. 

Dew drops glistening on the poppies, their petals drooping. 

Dragging myself out of bed to meditate in the cold room. 

Rain in the morning, looking out the window on a rainy landscape.
Standing in puddles on the patio.
Water drops caught in evergreen bush.
Orange poppies in the rain.
Low hanging clouds over hills.
Rain drops on orange poppies.

MISTER WHISKERS

Mister whiskers with green eyes.

Its is a comforting feeling that overcomes me,

while watching the cat kneading a fuzzy blanket.

Eyes closed, zoning out to all but the sensation

of blue fur on paw pads

Cocooning himself in the layers and folds

He teaches me the pleasures 

Of what Italians call

dulce far niente  

The sweetness of doing nothing. 

 

I love to sit with his body curled into the

Fold of my legs and the blanket

The panes have that look of frostbite about the edges again

Nothing could pull me from the sweetness of the bed warmth

Instead it is best to lay there and read; us two -

Utterly companionable in moments of quietude

Us two

Not so dissimilar. 

 

Stretching kitty in a soft blanket.
Kneading cat on fluffy blanket.
Cat yoga - Mr Whiskers stretches like crazy.
Sleeping cat.