Clouds and a Light Drizzle, Some Small Finds Upon the Grass

I found this so lone and bright upon the grass as I was out for an afternoon walk listening to music and light raindrops landing on my hair, the branch in my hand blowing softly in the wind.

It was a strange thing to be able to just pick up something off the ground so easily like that that’s so beautiful like this leaf!

The rose shed its petals and it was pressed in the book with the snow-flowers for another month for preservation. And the altar by the window has a new decorative look. The leaf is secured by the unlit candle with its stem. 😊

It was also nice to find a new composer, Fauré, yet the name noticed as if by familiarity, during this afternoon refreshed by a day of vacuuming and mopping and laundered pillowcases and blanket, to follow after a morning with poems read aloud in solitude (kind of 😊) by a couple authors, including a recent one by me that mentioned rain too (‘though not searching hard for them), and this musician’s quieter pieces had been the perfect accompaniment to my little walk in the drizzle 🌧😊🍃 not far from home.

He was a French Classical composer b. 1845 that I’d just added to my Chamber music playlist, my favorite genre of Western Classical and not always the most popular genre to be shown today. This piano piece I’d heard is drizzly in a great, simple way:

And now I will put away the clean dishes; it doesn’t drizzle now…the dishwasher, I mean, is actually drying. 🤗

I will listen to the song again afterwards now inside, and sit in my chair I’ve recently set out a little further and tilted, so I can see more through the window and with openness, seeing the sun and the sky and light in the morning.

I didn’t get there yet, but I will. 😊

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Read my first ghazal poem I wrote, which I posted last night and is forthcoming in publication: This Ring.