I love a rainy day, I love a rainy day.

All day  the rain fell slowly, the leaves showered down, red and gold, and my world could not have been prettier.

I hear the rain now at 9:00 p.m. as it hits the metal top of the carport in back, and I can hardly keep my eyes open.

What is about a slow rain that soothes our nerves and whispers calming thoughts? For me, the rain means welcome isolation. Alone is not so bad anymore. Both Tiger and Rocky are soundly sleeping inside.

I'm glad I'm not camping in the woods. I'm glad I'm not driving as I did on Tuesday of this week - all day in the rain. I'm thankful I'm not homeless and sleeping in a cardboard box to escape the rain.

I sit in what will become my office when I finally get everything moved out of this room and get it painted. Right now it is one big jumble of boxes, papers, and furniture in odd places. I try to imagine what it will look like - sepia tan paint, woven blinds the same color. I can't see it, but it will surely be better than it is now.  

view from my office window

When I work here, I will sit at this window that looks out on my woods. Before long the leaves will be gone, but the winter view, with or without snow, will draw my eyes out to see what nature holds.

one of the deer outside my window last winter

 Deer feed on the slope almost in my yard. Various birds fill my woods throughout the year. Wild turkeys move in clumps silent as snow flakes falling.

I look forward to winter when all is quiet here in the mountains. I will write and work on the business of writing in my new office.
What are your plans for winter? Will you finish that manuscript? Will you finally submit a poem or short story?

A Day of Tragedy, a Weekend of Snow

The news of this day has been the tragedy in Arizona - killing of innocent people, children and elderly, as well as the Congresswoman and the judge, for no reason at all.
How do we bring up children in this country to hate so vehemently? What has brought on the mass killings we have had in recent years? Is it the hatred spewed out on the airwaves by the media that skew those with twisted minds to take out their anger and frustration on anyone who makes a good target?
No one takes responsibility for their words anymore. Words can kill. We have seen it.

My heart aches for the family of the nine- year- old child who was killed today.
How innocent she was, brought to the event by a neighbor who thought it would be fun for the child who had been voted into a leadership position in her school.

Arizona is far away from where I am tonight. I can't shake these events from my mind even as I wonder what will happen locally in the next few days.
The temperature is 13 degrees here in the mountains of NC. The prediction of a devastating winter storm coming has me hoarding water, worrying about the power failing if ice forms on the lines or limbs of trees.

Below is a poem I wrote a few years ago. It expresses my mood tonight.

The Long Winter


Patches of snow highlight the woods.
The deck wears a blanket of sleet.
Ice grips small limbs of bare trees,
gleams on mountain peaks like precious gems.

I'm feeling fragile at the moment.
The death of my brother,
a bout of the flu,
have left me teetering on the brink.

I'd like to wrap up in a warm cocoon
and ride out the winter.
In spring I'll burst forth
and test my wings.
          ---- Glenda C. Beall