Rain. It’s been quite plentiful in North Texas this last year or so, which isn’t historically common. Certainly feels like a different place, whether the weather is on a truly new cycle or it’s merely a blip in the cosmic scheme of things, and my traveling-companion and I marvel every time we’re out and about at how strangely, beautifully green the region is for this time of year. It helps to take the edge off of the heat, as well, and I can’t help but smell that magical eau-de-vie perfume exhaled by the world when it’s rainy and feel renewed, myself. What a calming effect it has.
I know that many parts of the world are being treated less kindly by the rains and getting swamped in floods, and hope that mother earth will find a balance that harms none, helps all to flourish, but can’t help being grateful for our gentler and more nourishing version of the weather thus far. Our road trip to Santa Fe and back in late July/early August not only provided further evidence in its proliferation of green and growing things along our route but treated us to the beauties of stormy summer skies and perfumed earthy air quite a few times, as well. While storms do bring their troubles with them, those that do kindly leave us unharmed are a magnificent show of power and spectacle and beauty beyond human invention and remind me to show my respect and appreciation for nature more often.
The scent is all; this haunting
fragrance takes, in perfect synchrony,
my breath away and gives it back again,
back in electric rush as though
I’d leapt from ocean’s-depths
straight into air again—
This moment, this aching, longing,
of miniature infinity, this marks the time
when I find myself renewed, reborn—
The atomized eternity
that I breathe in, that I
pull in through every singing, sharp
electron of my frame, makes me go racing
back into the origins of time—still
fleeting, pass through iron gates
to death, and just as suddenly,
burst forth and know the spangled joys
of present life again
Santa Fe Afternoon
(A Breaking Storm’s Baptism)
Ochre and indigo, shadows and fire,
and in the far-off pines, a chanting bird
insinuating secret things is heard,
then joined by other birds, whose hearts’ desire
Is that the fulsome, clouded, darkling sky
should soon release a feathered shaft its own:
the lightning, thunder echoing with groan
and shout, to rout the perching birds to fly,
For they all wait, as we, gravity-bound,
wait under porches’ purple-gloaming eaves
for when the rain shakes us out of the leaves
to chase again the richness of this ground,
For water always wakens us once more,
Resuscitating all with petrichor.
With this little photo-essay and pair of poems, I’m reflecting on those joys, but also giving you a little preview: my books #2 and 3 should be published in good time for winter gift shopping, whether you’re interested in giving something to someone else or treating yourself! One of the books is a second volume sharing additional adventures in Miss Kitty’s Fabulous Emporium of Magical Thinking (or, MiKiFEMT-1), and the other will be a more grownup book of my poetry and visual images. Both in full color, this time. Not to worry, you can still get copies of that first book of nonsensical delights shipped directly to you any time you like, just by visiting good old Amazon online. You should have plenty of reading material handy in case the rain comes to visit again…
I just caught this before going to bed….and I am very pleased that I did. Oh the smell of the world after rain is simply exquisite…especially much needed rain. Nature’s perfume. I once did a road trip to Santa Fe from Texas up into high desert…and I loved it. I will be looking at your books…thank you and your poems are simply superb. I will take another look in the morning when I am fresh….for now I send you love and blessings from this side of the big Pond. Janet. xxx
Thanks, my lovely! The storms of summer, when they are not *too* fierce, are such an inspiration that—not coincidentally—they make me think of earthly respiration. 🙂 So pleased you’ve had a bit of a breather yourself. Much love back to you!
Enjoy a magical day….Janet. xxx
I’ve caught the photography bug in the last couple of years so I appreciate your photos even more. I especially like the third one (and the second poem) but they each have captured that some beauty.
I’ve discovered that I not only love a good dramatic sky for bringing out the best in a landscape shot, but I’m addicted to doing handmade HDR to get as close to *my* view of a scene as possible. Some of the rural scenes done this way get to feeling a little like a Constable painting, but I say that with mixed emotions (I love *some* Constable and *hate* some!)…in any case, the process is genuinely enlightening, no pun intended. 😀
PS—hope you end up having as much fun being a big ol’ amateur photographer as I do!!!
Apparently the word petrichor dates back only to the 1960s:
I’m quite willing to admit that I’m not the only fabulous product of the sixties!! 😉
The photos are gorgeous ♥
Thank you for your visit *and* for the kind comment! I’ll enjoy looking at *your* blog, too, as I’ve already seen. 🙂