by Carolyn Trower

I found myself in Riverview Park again last week, this time in a light rainfall. Standing under the towering trees I couldn’t feel the light rain but could see the drops dimple the river’s surface.
Even as the rain fell harder a large bird (too high for me to see details) soared with wings outstretched, gently lifting and falling as the wind shifted. I like the feel of soft rain on my skin, especially when the weather is still warm. Years ago, on a trip to Hawaii, I strolled the beach one early morning. I thought an early walk would keep me from the throngs that swarmed the beach as the sun rose above the ocean. This particular morning there was a gentle rain. It was the perfect walk, digging my toes in the sand and turning my face to the sky. The waves gently lapped the shore and swallowed the raindrops as quickly as they plopped onto the water’s surface. I don’t remember details, but I do remember how peaceful it was.
How many of us sit on the porch or deck and watch it rain? Probably for the same reason we run outdoors for the first snowfall. There’s something about catching Nature in transition. Storms, with their clash of thunder and lightning are just as mesmerizing. They aren’t as quiet as rain or snow, but they bring their own kind of peace in the knowledge that this, too, is one of Nature’s patterns.
I was recently scolded for not having my house “in order.” Well, I mused to myself, it depends on what kind of order you want…or need. Would having everything in its place be beneficial? Of course, it would so easy when searching for a jacket or the camera battery. On the other hand, the constant sorting and putting away of things would take away the time to sit down with a book I found under the pile of jackets. Searching for one thing often leads to finding something else entirely. I once found a favorite pen that had rolled under the couch just beyond the vacuum’s reach. I found a packet of pictures (I actually printed them off) when I sifted through some folders. I immediately sat down and looked through them marveling that they were vacation pix from 2016. I found some magnetic picture sleeves and put several of them on the fridge. By then it was time to get ready for a game and no more time to put things in order. The unfinished piles, boxes, and folders are still scattered on the couch and around the floor.
My peace comes from observing the order in the wind and rain and the surprising finds hidden in the daily clutter in my life. And I’m okay with that.