Rainy Day

It is dark and the air heavy with impending rain this school morning. Even the bright kitchen lights don’t seem to cut the gloom. I help my daughter with her hair and get her breakfast. While she works on her oatmeal and toast, I make her sandwich and pack the rest of her lunch.

The clouds look like they could break open any moment as I drive slowly through the streets of our village, two minutes to Emmy’s school.  Drops spatter on my windshield on the drive home, more fall as I turn into our driveway. I make it into the garage before the deluge.

Inside again I set my keys up on the shelf and kick off my shoes. There is no sound inside the house but the gentle ticking of the cuckoo clock in the dining room. Everything is neat and tidy. Rain falls outside, but I can’t hear it. Emmy says you can hear the rain on the roof of our ranch when it  is coming down hard, but my hearing doesn’t extend to those sounds. Just the steady ticking of the clock. That I can hear.

I make my coffee and sit in the living room by the window, watching the leaden skies divest themselves of all the moisture they have stored.  Rain drips from our Magnolia steadily.

Tick, tick, tick.

It is so dark in the room, I feel the sudden need for lamp light. My eyes roam the shelves where my many books sit patiently, waiting for me. Old friends, all of them. The piano where Emmy practices her first songs sits in the corner. But the old, black Steinway is silent this morning, awaiting small fingers at the end of the school day.

Tick, tick, tick.

No voices call out to me, no demands, no requests. Far away, Will is at college. Downtown, Tom is at work. Down the street, Emmy is busy at school. And I am alone in my house in the quiet and peace. Sitting by the window. Watching the rain come down, the soft tick of my clock keeping time.









10 thoughts on “Rainy Day

  1. Beverley says:

    Sounds wonderful. Savour this moment ….
    … I need more of those moments. I must surprise myself and make it happen “some day.”
    Thank you for sharing.

  2. Glenn says:

    You sure paint a beautiful word picture! I have a couple of skylights in my ranch style house so I can hear the rain pretty well. Fall is coming and so will a nice for in the wood stove.

  3. Ingrid says:

    Thanks, Glenn. It has taken some getting used to, being alone and liking it. After such a busy home with six kids and working so many years. I still cook too much, buy too much when now we have only two adults and a child home. I’m trying to downsize my mind! The quietness of mornings like I described is something I have always needed. Only in the last couple of years have I had that, after having a baby/toddler/preschooler to raise after our first 5 were on their way out the door. So now there is deep quiet, and I try to take it into myself and my soul at times like that. I thank the Lord for it, because I needed it more than I can say. Stillness after so much noise all these years is a beautiful gift, and the rain the other morning just set that off nicely!

  4. Glenn says:

    I can see I need to proofread what I write……..that was fire in the wood stove🙂.
    That is quite a change after all those years. I love the ticking of the clock also……….built one about twenty years ago that looks like an old regulator clock you might see in a bank 100 years ago. It’s a quartz movement with a pendulum and has a clicking mechanism in it.
    Tomorrow I need to stack and cover a bunch of firewood I recently split so I can burn it when it cools down. Blessings…….

  5. biggardenblog says:

    [J] Fragments of life like this – which you’ve captured here so well in words! – are priceless, treasured. Yet if this was all that life offered you (I’m thinking of the constrained lives of genteel ladies a century or more ago – without meaningful work, ambition …) Here across the Atlantic, in the Outer Hebrides, as we approach the autumn equinox, the weather is becoming restless for something new, more exciting, more dynamic. And tonight, that’s exactly what we’re going to get. Ferries will be cancelled or diverted, holiday-makers will fret … but that’s what makes up the warp and weft of life! – Tioraidh an drasd’!

  6. Ingrid says:

    Beautifully put, BigGardenBlog! Thanks. Yes, the peace is only treasured, because I know, in the back of my mind, in 6 hours, it will be broken by the cheery face of my husband at the door and a rambunctious 7-year-old home from school to tell all the news of her day. The tick, tick, tick and silence can be a burden when it’s accompanied by loneliness or boredom. The Outer Hebrides. what a beautiful place that must be! Readers, please check out the BigGardenBlog!

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