After a long time without the chance to write here, I am back. Like the rain... I hope both are equally welcome.
Indeed, too much of a good thing can become problematic. These last few months we have been having "gorgeous weather", i.e. sunshine, high temperatures, gentle breezes. So the crops died, the chicks hatched ahead of time, and everyone supposedly loved it. Supposedly, because interestingly enough it is today, when the wind and the rain have made a very felt appearance, that I have seen the most smiles from strangers, huddled by the doors to buildings for a smoke, hurrying under their flimsy umbrellas, hailing cabs while avoiding the splashes of passing traffic.
People, even in the city, react to the changes in Nature, to her Needs, to her Pulse. We hide in glass bubbles and do our best to control the environment (mostly by destroying it, but that'll be in another entry) - yet our cells soak up the moisture and rejoice. The air is fresh, so is our spirit. When making a decision, it is best to tune in, to hear within us the rhythm of our Needs answering those of the World around.
I wrote the following bit yesterday, in Greenwich Park. It seems that nothing, not mood, not observation, not even concern, stands alone:
"The crossroads is neither a cross nor a road. It is a patch of grass on top of a hill, sunny, calm. There is no anxiety, no fear, no puzzle. The glittering glass of the city is far, while the white surface of an old stone spire can nearly be touched. But what I feel is plants, what I hear is their rustling, their colour bright against bland urban gray.
I have to choose which way to go, when I would simply just sit down, still, observant. I have to get back to the twinkles of the myriad clocks, yet my eyes turn to the age-old village instead. My soul, however, has sprouted roots and shoots, that will tear if I move. Like tendrils of ivy, my toes curl into the ground, burrowing to hold onto the rock.
The crossroads is neither flesh nor stone. It is time and thought and love and soul. It is knowing what is home."
If you have a tough decision to make, wait for the rain.
