Rain, Rain, GO AWAY!

          It is raining, again; reminding me that the warm, dry days of summer, in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, have once again, been unjustly evicted from the vicinity, by the cold, dampness of autumn. Days spent at the park, watching Lu, and her friends run wild with glee and excitement, while I enjoy the sun and adult conversation, will now become fewer, limited to those days without wind and rain. Bike rides, nature walks, and time spent digging in the garden will shorten like the days. Days will transform from unplanned and spontaneous time outside, to planned and creative time spent indoors, especially during those below freezing winter days, when fresh air freezes fingers, noses, and toes. I will feel the damp, the wet, and the cold creep below my skin until it crawls, forcing me to either venture out and find beauty in the glistening pavement, or find solitude in some sheltered location other than home.

            I find it difficult to believe that the wetness of autumn and winter never used to bother me. In fact, I used to look forward to those days when I could curl up on the couch with a pot of tea positioned next to me and an engaging novel clutched in my hand. During my four Oregon winters and eleven Baltimore ones, I made many trips to Starbucks. Memories of sipping a grande soy chai, or mocha, and nibbling on a pumpkin scone, both alone and with friends, fill my heart and warm my belly. I spent hours walking through Barnes and Noble, browsing the shelves for the next novel I would devour, the smell of freshly printed ink and bleached pages hovering heavily in the air, richly intoxicating. I would cradle one book after another in my hands, turn each cover from front to back, feel the resistance of the pages as I pulled open the book’s freshly bound spine, and listen for the crackle. The rain and the cold justified my lack of productivity. Fall and winter were times of rest, self-care, and rejuvenation.

            However, today, the autumn rain and winter cold remind me that I live in a house too small to accommodate the boundless energy of my highly inquisitive three year old. Autumn and winter no longer allow me the time to recharge, and rejuvenate, but rather tax my already exhausted system, as Lu and I bounce from one craft to the next, from one activity to another. I pray for the rain to stop and for the sun to appear. When the weather fails to cooperate, I pray for my child to nap. I lay next her, feeling her perpetual squiggling slow, and then stop. I listen for her breathing calm and watch her eyes drift shut and her face take on the peaceful visage of sleep. Creeping downstairs, I glance at a sink full of dirty dishes. I have hours to clean them, I do not have hours to sit, enjoy the quiet, and remember those days when autumn rain brought comfort and peace. I sit and enjoy.