All it took

it rained last night, so sweet and fresh that I had to stand outside for awhile, enjoying getting wet, inhaling deeply that indescribable scent so many try to copy but can't. This morning, my irises had opened, and my stubborn azaleas finally popped out.

It's still sweet and wet and splashy outside. It's a day that calls for galoshes and pretty pink umbrellas. I want to unabashedly jump in a puddle with all the glee and maturity of a five year old. I want to dash through the rain, with my hair streaming and my clothes clinging, into the embrace of a warm and dry lover who laughs as I soak him in my hug. I want to lean my forehead against the rain cooled pane of a window and sigh as I enjoy the dreamy Monet palette of this day. Instead I'll trundle off to work with my to do list made and ready to be checked off.

Water, it called my flowers out into the world, and it called my dreams to the surface. This is more than enough to brace me for whatever the rest of the day might hold.

rain