Morning Rains

 

wpid-img_20150619_140822317_20150619141816905_20150619142113558.jpgThis morning is just what I’ve needed.

Most days, Mitchell wakes me by asking if I want to join him and Augie for a walk through the neighborhood. Normally, I oblige. These first thirty minutes of my day are some of my favorite. Morning air has an untainted magic and the casual exercise is good for my body and my spirit. Even better, I cherish the uninterrupted togetherness with my husband before the day takes off.

Last night, the leftovers of the latest tropical depression swept across the ridge, leaving waves of drizzle and dampness behind it for this morning. On our walk, I was captivated by the sky. Hints of white sunlight and peeks of sharp blue were sneaking through the top cloud layer, steadfast , while a second layer of plump, navy swirls just above our heads raced northward. The contrast was stunning. Humidity tried clinging to our skin, but the wind wouldn’t allow it.

I needed this cleansing, this break from summer heat. Being enveloped in the wet air and seeing the clouds roll by on invisible swells of sweet relief lets me know that the squall is past. Standing in the soft rains of a once-mighty storm will wash away so many yesterdays. They roll down and into the ground, sinking beneath our feet and buried away to build up our soils for sprigs of new green.

It is refreshing.

Also, my espresso roast this morning was on fleek. Good coffee makes everything better. 🙂

As expected, my mid-summer recovery from radiotherapy in January is right on time. This last week I’ve felt as if another switch has been flipped and a little more of myself has returned. It’s a slow process, this recovering thing, but my want for bigger life has returned. My mind is always last to heal. My thinking has been slow in the beginning of recuperation, but eventually, as my body regains its strength, I’m able to navigate the hazy maze of brain fog back to the personality that is rightfully mine. Most people may not even notice the change, but I do.

I feel as if the fear and confusion and desperation that comes in times of change (or simply a misfiring of hormones and brainwaves) has dissipated. Clarity. My desires to write and cook and plan and work my body are present. I still rest when the pregnancy beckons, but my will to move forward has returned. A little more energy and excitement and a little less escaping and excuses.

All that to say — I FEEL GOOD.

And I’m glad.

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