Misty

     Call me "wet behind the ears" but I love walking the acres on a misty rainy day like today.  For some reason I find the gentle rain therapeutic.  To just walk slowly--well, even more slowly than usual--with the feel of the mist on my face is marvelous.  I thought at one time that maybe it was just my naturally melancholic nature meshing with the weather and the grayness, but I don't feel sad as I walk, just at peace.  Perhaps some day some psychologist can explain it to me, but for now I'll just walk and enjoy.
      I love the rain drops on the flowers and the grass and the leaves.  (It's a good time for pictures.)  I love the coolness of the air.  The birds, too, seem to enjoy the weather.  They are active and alive with song.  The goldfinch try to lead me away from their nesting place arching their way across the meadow.  The field sparrows flit from bramble to bramble but never fly completely away as usual.  The song sparrows warble competing arias. The cat bird mews his "song" sitting on top of the highest branch of a small tree.  Too bad they haven't learned to purr.  The robins, ears cocked to the ground for the sound of worms and dinner, hop seemingly unafraid of the weird human strolling in the rain.  What is there about rain that puts us at ease?  I even took a chair and just sat for awhile watching the rain and "soaking" it in.  Yes, even into my spirit.  I could walk in a misty rain all day and be entirely content.  My "choir" serenading me (you can have your iPods), my flowers sparkling with rain drops, my soul at ease.  Oh,  I hope some psychologist isn't actually expecting me to ask him or her why I like such walks in such weather.  Not going to happen.  If they want, they can come and walk with me in the rain.  But silence is required--the sound waves belong to the soft rain and my feathered neighbors.