When it rains

This morning, I awoke to the sound of traffic on water. Rain in Lowell. A relief, to be sure. Of late, the tension from the heat has been arousing crankiness from my two fluffy, feline companions and me.

But also a disappointment. I had planned to walk and swim at Walden Pond. A glorious reunion after many months apart.

I miss the pond.

I miss the feeling of being surrounded by water.

The rain reminds me of Alaska and the wilderness I miss.

The rain also helps me feel connected to places I where have set down roots. They are a part of me.

Water travels around the world in patterns I can only imagine. Perhaps, these very drops have fallen on the roof of my Gustavus home and on my cheeks as I walked through the forests of western Washington. I could have trod on sandy beaches in France beneath them.

Though I thrive on companionship, I have been living a solitary life for many months. It has been a time of soul searching and self-work. I am trying to be patient with the universe.

This morning, beneath the falling water, I made pancakes and sat watching the misty, dampened factory buildings silently standing in their usual places. I drank coffee and thought about the places I have been. I wondered about the places I may go.

Thunderstorms have been predicted, so I will wait patiently in the hopes of finding my way to the pond this afternoon.

You are in my thoughts, Walden, and also in my heart.


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