Night Rain

A thunderstorm is gracing this lovely evening. It’s been warm and misty all day, and tonight as I returned home, the mist turned into a more steady drizzle. A light, lovely fog has lingered since morning, too, adding a stunning haziness to the clear edges of the world. What a stunning evening this is, too. It’s warm and humid, and the sweet, thick smell of wet earth permeates the night. It is delicious, heady, and intoxicating. I have been lulled out onto the porch by this glorious rainy evening, and am grateful for the temperature, which allows me to linger without the least bit of discomfort.

Dare I mention how strange it is to experience a thunderstorm in November, and to enjoy an evening that is likely near 60 degrees? To keep my windows open, just a little, each night as I go to sleep, though Thanksgiving is nearly a week away? Each year, I play a little game with myself: how late can I wait before turning on the heat? And last year, I made it to mid-November before freezing my ass off. Right now, it’s later than that, and I haven’t yet felt any need to turn to heat. Global warming, anyone?

Surely it is. Mother Earth is doing her best to keep balance in her ecosystems, but change is clearly here. Is she ill? In spite of the common belief that she is dying, that she is terminally damaged, I have my doubts about that. She is changing, for sure. She is doing her very best to purge the damages that we humans have wrought upon her sweet soils, and rivers, and oceans, and skies. If necessary, she will purge us right off her surface, I have no doubt. When there is an imbalance of harmful bacteria in our human bodies, our immune systems kick in and oust the invader that is causing so much trouble. And true, bacteria live in our bodies in great balance much of the time. It’s when the tipping point is reached and illness occurs that the purging must begin. And all this changing in our weather patterns is Mother Earth’s global immune system trying to set things right.

God bless her, for sending these beautiful purging rains to cleanse her of the harmful, toxic elements that we have hoisted upon her systems in our ignorance. And God bless this heavy rain that now falls. And God bless this sweet sacred Tobacco that has brought me into a deeper, more intimate connection with this night, with the cool air, damp and sweet.

Thunder rumbles again as the rain becomes heavier and heavier. And as I sit here on the porch in the candlelight, I am feeling good inside. Simple. Sweet. Content.

It has been six weeks since Familiar kitty died, six weeks yesterday. And I am feeling my body return to its own state of equilibrium, releasing the pain of sorrow and grief. My life continues, and I am grateful for that. There is electricity in the air tonight, and I am feeling alive and alert, and grateful for having a life that allows me this connection with Mother Earth. A television flickers in a house to my left, and I wonder if those people have any idea what splendor they’re missing. While they sit in their house following sitcoms or dramas or news, out here Mother Earth is telling her own story, a story of renewal and simplicity and ease and necessity and life. Lightning flashes brightly, followed three seconds later by deep, rich thunder.