(written last month in the Missouri countryside)

Sitting here on a gently rainy day, I once again contemplate the meadow and the trees beyond it.

I know the rain has stopped for a while, not just because I no longer hear the raindrops on the roof.

Nor because, looking outward, I no longer see the rain coming down.

No, what has broken into my concentration as I study, is the sound of bird calls.

The sky is still full of gray , rolling, puffy clouds.

The sun has not broken through its ten o’clock position to shine on my cabin.

But there is stillness from the rain.

And the intermittent call and quiet of bird conversations.

© 2014 Kathryn Hardage


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