And then…

25 October 2022 – And then… at last…

it begins to rain.

It beats a soft tattoo on the hood of my Seriously Waterproof Coat, and it makes gleaming magic of the every-day.

Fallen leaves…

garden rocks…

a stretch of sidewalk…

with puddle lakes & dancing raindrop circles…

a water fountain…

with its own dancing raindrops, real and painted…

chair circles in Dude Chilling Park, usually occupied & invisible, now empty & visible & admirable, a reminder of all the conversations, all the neighbourhood connections, that they (literally) support…

and the Dude himself…

who hosts us all.

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  1. Thanks for taking us along on your beautiful rainy walk. It has been so dry that the rain is completely refreshing. I’m heading to the north at the end of this week so I’m enjoying the autumn days available to me before I land in the cold. It’s the last one in the north though as I’m retiring. Cheers.

    • Oh Lynette, your last winter in the north! Savour every moment — and then jump into whatever next phase of life you have planned. May there be lots of wind in your sails, my friend

      • Thank you for your good wishes and friendship, Penny. Very much appreciated. I plan to; it’s so bittersweet as I want to move on (it’s also time to move on) but I have also developed a strong connection to the north. I know that you understand about that.

      • There is wisdom in knowing when to leave, dignity also — but that doesn’t mean that it is without pain

      • Yes, very true.

  2. Susan

     /  29 October 2022

    How lucky you are to have it. So many need it.

  3. Yea, finally! Didn’t that first round of fresh air smell marvelous? Ahhh! You’re lucky to have caught the painted raindrops playing with the real thing. Comparing notes maybe. What’s real anyway, says one….but which one?


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    "Traveller, there is no path. Paths are made by walking" -- Antonio Machado (1875-1939)

    "The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes" -- Marcel Proust (1871-1922)

    "A city is a language, a repository of possibilities, and walking is the act of speaking that language, of selecting from those possibilities" -- Rebecca Solnit, "Wanderlust: A History of Walking"

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