the first rain

I've begun a book called Botany in the Field (by Jane Scott). It was published in 1984... but I bought it for 2 dollars at the book sale and I don't think that our basic understandings on botany have changed that much in the past 25 years. I quite like what Scott says in the opening chapter. She says: 'among the special appeals of botany is the fact that plants, unlike animals, do not vanish at our approach. Yet they do move in time, shifting images with the revolving seasons like a slow-motion kaleidoscope, as bright fruits replace delicate flowers and the pervasive green of summer explodes into autumn's fire.'

Today I began planting our winter garden. This included a trip to the local nursery and a long chat with the owner about how best to (organically) amend the soil to yield the best crop. I even brought in a soil sample to test and get specific advice about. It's so lovely how persons in this field are (or at least appear to be) so willing to share their knowledge.

Another bit of writing that I want to share; this one is actually a refrain that we sing at church when we take the wine and bread: 'Laudate dominum omnes gentes alleluia!' It means: Praise the Lord all peoples, Alleluia' I find that singing in Latin is quite grounding, espeically during communion. It is a subtle reminder of the Saints who came before and of the two thousand years contained within the ritual.

Today we had the first rain of the season; it was light but so lovely. I found myself strangely aware that this was the first rain I've seen in this country in a year and a half. I think I'd forgotten that Santa Barbara is not a land of perpetual summer. Perhaps I developed a bit of an image reflecting that idea during my time away in a land of (seemingly) perpetual winter. The rain today was very, very nice. I love this time of year and the dampness and the gloom and the chill in the air. The sound of rain hitting the roof and the crunch of leaves under foot; I think that maybe autumn is the season that lends itself most willingly to a sense of serenity and calm.