Today is one of those quiet days where my world seems to be at peace. The sky outside is flat primer gray, with indecisive splashes of the rain trickling down periodically, as if it can’t decide whether or not to fall. The leaves on the tree outside my window are fluttering in the wind, flashes of gold and red starting to show through summer’s green. The geese are tucked away next to the pond, waiting with me for the storm to show its power. The steady stream of people through our doorway is absent; the rain drives everyone inside and keeps them there as long as they can hold out against the wet. Thunder rumbles here and there in the distance, just often enough to remind you that the storm is on its way.
I spent my weekend cocooned in the embrace of friends and family. Sharing sushi with my husband, coffee with a local friend who has egg retrieval tomorrow, a family dinner with my in-laws to see my SIL and her boyfriend down from Wisconsin for the first time in months, feeding my shiny new niece a bottle and watching her father rock her to sleep, football until late at night, and introducing Lucky to the fish and cats and dog at my house. Everywhere I turned, there was someone that I loved, who loved me in return, and that is a wonderful place to be in.
If I had my choice, I would go home and curl up in my window and spend the afternoon watching the rain come down off the trees. I would sit and sew, embroidering christmas ornaments that will adorn packages in a few months, a little love tucked into each stitch. If I could, I would bottle this feeling, pouring little drips of peace and contentment away for the moments when my life is not so happy, when I am not so satisfied with myself. There are always a thousand things demanding my attention and keeping me from closing the door and driving home. Today though, I think I’ll resist their call — they’ll be there tomorrow, but the rain calm will not.