the rain is coming down in buckets. the forecast, again, is profoundly wrong. 2-4mm, it said, at lunchtime when i checked. i think we got that in the first five minutes.
the rainbarrels are overflowing. it was perhaps too soon to start collecting, but i'm inclined towards hoarding rainwater.
the rumbles of thunder have sent Emma out of her mind. she won't be comforted. i let her out of the study so she could go and hide behind the toilet.
everywhere, there is life, poised.
soon, any day now, there will be a profusion of leaf and blossom.
it always comes.
an excerpt from my journal....which, other than the garden, is where i'm spending most of my time these days; a state of analogue bliss, the comforting scratch of pen across paper as the rain pours down.
ps. a collision of worlds -benign, and yet just as jarring - has, again, forced me to examine how i wish to be in the digital world -- so i've drawn a very firm line for myself. if you'd like access to the inner realms, there's my tinyletter.
i'll still be here, but differently. xo