Hazy, lazy day

What is it about outside that sparks my creativity and urges me to put words into legible sentences?  I am not an outdoors person.  Ashamedly I prefer to nap on a Sunday afternoon (or Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday, etc.) rather than go and enjoy the outside.  I think it’s the south Mississippi weather that keeps me indoors.  Rarely is the weather pleasant enough to be outside.  There’s just a small window of opportunity when it is not too hot, or too cold, or too dry or too much pollen.  Today one of those windows opened and here I sit on my porch with my dog listening to the rain and hoping the wind will be still enough to keep the rain off of the porch and away from my electronics. 

Our goats are not very happy about the rain.  We’ve locked them in the front pasture and they can’t get to the barn.  Its okay, they have a shelter.  Eddie, the male goat, is usually so quiet you can’t hear his bleat, but just now when the rain came heavy he positively bellowed to his ladies to follow him and he galloped to his little house.  The ladies, with their pregnant bellies, followed slowly but they didn’t seem to mind the rain as much as Eddie.  And like most Mississippi rainfalls, it was over by the time they reached their little house so they just plopped on the ground in the wide openness instead.  Poor Eddie.  He doesn’t have much say so.  His big horns show dominance, but the real power in the family lies with the ladies.  Like Mary’s little lamb he follows them wherever they go.

Unlike the goats I love the rain.  It is really the only reason I am out here today.  I revel in the coolness it brings on a hot day, the way it refreshes the air and brings out the scent of the pine and grass and dirt, and the tinkling sound it makes as it hits the different surfaces on the ground. All these things awaken my senses.  Sometimes I wonder if I would rather live in a place where rain is prevalent.  I hear so many people talk about depression from too many gray days, but I think I would thrive in such a climate.  I detest hot sun and sticky humidity.  Give me a breezy rainy day and I’ll even leave my napping couch to enjoy it.

Along with rain there are so many other sounds that bring me comfort.  Next to me I hear windchimes, but in the distance I hear roosters crowing, my husband on his tractor, wind, birds, and frogs.  These are my sounds of home.  I especially enjoy the windchimes.  Most people would probably think they are annoying, and that I have too many.  Well, maybe I do have too many, but I think they are comforting.  When my oldest son was just a baby his grandmother gave me a set of windchimes and I hung them outside his bedroom window.  I could hear them from my own bed as well.  He never minded the sound.  In fact, I had another very small set I hung on his ceiling fan pull chain.  When he was older I went to remove them and he wouldn’t let me.  I guess I associate the sound of the chimes with having small children in my life.  The sound of the chimes keep the quiet away, and now that my children are mostly grown and I no longer have small children under my feet the quiet tends to creep in when I least expect it. 

Now the window is closing.  The air has gone from cool to cold and the wind is blowing the rain sideways and threatening my electronics.  My napping couch awaits me.  Till next time.