RAIN VALUE

As the heavy night rain continued into the morning I donned my trusty raincoat and boots, entered the big roar to check all the firewood covers, then the shiitake that must have emerged as a result of the big cascade. Found that the oldest logs had the greatest yields-- sorta like a lot of the elder folks I know.

On my way back to the house with all those mushrooms, I stopped to check on the garden where, in the windowed sunshine of yesterdays office, I'd hoped to work today. But thanks to the garden, all was cool. The nasturtiums were bouncing in their red and gold, the rainbow chard leaves were rising into the rain, their gleaming colors more vivid than the inanimate flash of gems; the lettuce was crisp to the eyes, the baby radishes and arugula were clearly enjoying this old life now new, bouncing the way babies do; the beansprouts were swollen with their tasks, never more at home; the ginger was still enjoying its sleep in the rain, like I had earlier this morning; the potatoes, baby tomato plants and carrots were straight up with green energy and the garlic was reveling in those moonstones of water like there was no tomorrow-- which I guess there isn't for vegetables, whose profession is to live nowhen but now. We humans have trouble doing that, except for such moments as when we watch a garden in the rain.

Rain reaches full value when you have a garden.