It's a cold, miserable day in Tucson; snow on the Catalina's and a mixture of heavy rain and hail most of the day. I've been working on a couple of articles for May Connections for Women; I visited a very damp Tucson Community Garden at 8 a.m. and had that experience to write up. Despite the energy of the community garden, I was feeling sorry for myself and bemoaning the weather.
I should add that the forecast for tomorrow is near perfect (I have a crowd for what I hope will be an outside dinner) and that a day like this is an aberration.
Hamish, a dog of refined sensibilities in terms of weather preferences (he can hold "it" for 24 hours on a rainy day...he doesn't like his hair to get frizzy) but limited vocabulary, "what's for dinner"-doesn't matter what time of day, all meals are dinner - has had his nose pressed against a window like a petulant five year old (and I had the windows cleaned yesterday!) most of the day - occasionally sighing and resolutely refusing to go out. About 20 minutes ago he came to the study to get me. His buddy, the Soft Coated Wheaten who stops by most evenings for a romp, was on the road above the garden and turning homeward. His owners, not seeing my car (it was in the garage) thought I wasn't at home. I raced out and called to them. Dogs united, rough-housed and then both clamoured to come inside where adults had taken shelter.
An hour earlier, a Chicago based friend called and laughed when I complained about the weather - didn't do a thing to improve my mood.
I've just gone out to the sala fresca to survey wind, hail and rain battered flowers and vines moaning about "ruined" and "darn it why today" when something wonderful happened. I remembered to breathe. I looked beyond rain burdened geraniums; there, in my fountain, one perfect Water Iris is in bloom. Thank you Sylvia for giving me what appeared to be stalks in a pot this time last year! I must remember to breathe more often.
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