Rainy Offerings

This is the second morning of the September rains and another grey day lies before us. When the sun rose over the ash trees in the garden a while ago, it was so obscured by darkling cloud that one could not see it, and it seems that this will be another day of endless twilight and drenching precipitation. The leaves of the Manitoba Maple in the garden are in constant flight this morning, and they lie on the deck and the grass with almost every shade of yellow, russet and gold in the spectrum on display. In the gloom of the day, the leaves are almost neon in their intensity.

Yesterday with its umbrella, oilskins, wellies and drooping garden foliage brought one of those small incandescent gifts which I have come to cherish in my retirement and cronish pottering, and it is interesting how often such gifts seem to turn up on dank days.

During the first week of June, I posted a poem here by Patti Tana called Post Humus, one I have loved since I read it for the first time three years ago. There is a copy of the poem pinned to the bulletin board in this tiny (about the size of a closet) study in the little blue house in the village, and reading it again is always a happy and uplifting experience, particularly if one is a gardener. Patti wrote me a delightful message this week, and I discovered that she has a web site where one may learn more about her exquisite poetry and listen to her reading her poems aloud, including the lovely Post Humus. Thank you Patti. . . .