Raining.
I give thanks a lot. It is not so much a thought but more a sort of visceral breath which emanates gratitude. I say this to contrast it with the exasperated prayer of yesterday. My prayer was, 'Just make it effing rain, right?'
For days, nay weeks, I have watched the radar as storms brew up to the west, march toward us in a wall of blue and yellow and orange only to split and pass to the north and south, reform on the other side and carry on to the coast. I try, I really do try, to remain composed and indifferent to the vagaries of the weather, I try to remain aloof and non-judgmental when neighbours burn the living crap out of their land year after weary smoke filled year. I try to welcome all that is as It Is What It Is and I'm damn grateful to be here experiencing another 'ordinary day'. But sometimes, just sometimes, I get fed up, shake my fist at the sky and in bad grace invoke grace.
And it worked. Despite a totally different forecast, I woke to the sound of rain and although at 2:30pm, it is just about finished, it has drizzled all day.
Wonder if I can invoke, 'just let us win the damn lotto,' would have the same outcome. Or 'sell the damn house!'
Sometimes I coast along quite happily here (especially after it's rained) and don't mind that we are not on the coast but other times it's a hunger.
Coincidentally, a program on the community TV about an eco-village in Currumbin Valley. Wouldn't suit us as we've all the animals but I could feel the coastal vibe.
Bring it on! Right?
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