Blessed Rain

The yard is sopping and squishes underfoot as I walk across it.  Often the grass-turned-mud sticks me in place and requires I take a little extra effort with each step.  The dripping trees are far past saturation and the creek runs quickly to the sea.  The older I get the more I appreciate the ubiquitous rain of our west coast.  This warm winter is so inviting that I find myself pulled into the yard in admiration. It gives me time to notice the perfect circles forming in the pool that use to be my driveway.

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