It was raining this morning when we woke up! It was actually chilly! I know there will come a time when this gets old, but for now, I am enjoying the cool, the sound of rain, and the way the light reflects off the drops.
After breakfast I bundled up and went walking in the park. It felt even more like a forest than ever. With fewer people and dogs, the ducks were more active, and the soft sounds of rain and wind were everywhere. (Sigh)
Walking my regular route through the park, I noticed changes. Small dents in the path had become small ponds, and the squirrels were drinking from them. Clear paths had become upholstered with leaves and small branches which had come down in the wind.
I have recently learned a new word: susurration. It means a whispering sound, or a murmur, especially in contrast with louder noises. Laurelhurst Park, this morning, was full of susurration. The wind whispered in the tops of trees, the rain whispered on the puddles, even the bicycles whispered as they rolled past.
And of course, the surface of the pond was alive with drops and ripples. One duck was awake and drifted along with me under the protection of a tree. The reflection and soft music of the textured surface made it worth getting a bit damp.
This all made me smile and remember a poem from The Wind in the Willows, and of Laurel Bloombaum:
All along the backwater,
Through the rushes tall,
Ducks are a-dabbling,
Up tails all!