Right outside the window is an unknown tree, at least 30 feet high with red tipped leaves. Behind it is an even taller evergreen, with bright green tips, and nestled between them is a white flowering Dogwood with pink and red Azaleas underneath. Down to the right I see the tops of the Rhodos, more evergreens, a red Japanese Maple, and what looks like a forest of foliage. From this vantage I feel like I'm in a treehouse, high above the canopy.
When I first opened my computer to record this peace (like the pun?!) the light patter of rain had slowed, and the leaves were shaking off their dampness. Now a spring cloudburst has opened up in earnest, with the farthest trees shrouded in mist and the road noise accompanied by the hiss of water on tires. The air through the window feels cool and like water itself as it pours over my skin. A breeze will help move rain to the roots of these trees, and I am so pleased my new garden is getting watered much more gently than my hose can.
Thunder! Far away and echo-y, I thought it was a truck at first, but now we have fat, fast rain pouring straight down. Not quite "get-me-a-bar-of-soap" fast, but another crack of thunder almost brings the rain to that pace. Now the near trees look misty in the rain.. Oops, there are tiny water drops on my laptop screen.
I imagine that many of the drivers swishing by on the other side of those trees see only wet, annoyance, or maybe a touch of relief that the pollen is washing off their cars. True, wet roads can be slippery, as can wet flowers that have fallen to the pavement, and people need to take more care in the rain. But what a shame that more people can't spend ten or twenty minutes with the magic of this spring shower, and feel the plants drink up this rain like the finest champagne, waiting to stretch closer to the sun with their new life, and listen to the thunder and the birds and how sound changes as the rain changes, and watch the air itself change too. This really is magic.