(Views of my week: sun prints in-progress.)
(Figs from the tree in our backyard: soon to be jam.)
(Paper scraps made pretty for garland.)
(Handwritten notes on cards by these folks.)
(Hydrangeas in the late afternoon light.)
I know, we talk about it all the time, but I want to take a minute to talk about the weather. It's raining today and I am aflutter with the cool temperature and the wet sidewalks and the sound of raindrops hitting the rooftops and cars splashing puddles as they pass. It's cool and calming and forces us indoors for a few hours in our studios or offices or living rooms or kitchens. I'd like to think it forces us to contemplate and get cozy and realize that even a pretty summer must end.
The gray sky is punctuated with full green and yellow leaves dripping with wet. Today feels like the first autumn rain. Like the first winter snow in New York City, it has the effect of heightening the senses and forcing us to recognize that we are at the whims of the weather. It makes the city quieter as it dampens and deafens. Put simply: I love it when the seasons shift.
There is something simple about coming back to the weather. Like a ritual or a practice or a meditation. It forces us to be present in the moment. It forces us to take notice of what is happening outside of our selves on this particular day. And the shift of seasons always heightens my awareness of our dependence on agriculture and its dependence on weather and that, even in these big bustling sophisticated and structured cities, we are all at the mercy of the rain.
PS-- For more inspired weather pondering, visit Anna Emilia's gorgeous blog.