The Don't Drink Bees Blog

I wasn't down this morning. Just thinking. Just on a level plain. I looked for some inspiration, some distraction. I saw the rain outside the window, the ever changing circular patterns on the wood of the deck. It's more beautiful, because you can't freeze it. A photograph would do it no justice. The beauty is in the motion, in the changes.

Even a video camera could not capture this beauty, because your experience is limited by the artist. You cannot choose and change your own view. You miss being part of the experience. Video can give you the visual and auditory - but you cannot feel the light drops forming those same circular, beaded patterns on your skin. The slow, random permeation of your hair and clothes until you are dripping along with the bench and the trees. You cannot smell the fresh quality which is rain. Rain on pavement. Rain on earth. Rain changes what it touches. Without rain, I cannot smell the pavement nor the earth. Rain gives them their moment to shine. It washes away the other scents, so that these two can be experienced purely.

(Yellow always shines in the rain. Yellow raincoats. Yellow yield signs. Yellow forsythia blossoms. Daffodils. Yellow is brilliant and bright. Tiny suns to make up for the large, clouded, absent one.)

The birds' songs are purer and clearer in the rain. All the other noise, the interference, is washed away. The rain cleanses, purifies.

And it energizes. I want to dance and prance around madly like a dog who's just had his bath. There is an excitement. There is renewal. The birth of a new world - fresh and waiting. And I want to be a part of that transformation, that awakening. I do not want to watch from behind a pane. I want to be soaked through. I want to be cleansed and energized and renewed. I want to be part of this fresh new world from its first breath. I want to be reborn.