Rain.
Spring is now underway in earnest here. This time of year, and these conditions, always put me in mind of the New England coast, particularly Maine and Cape Cod. The temperatures here hover around the 50's well into May and June, which is just about what they are here right now.
I remember a certain July 4th in Woods Hole, in 1978. I was working at a lab there and on that morning I woke up, not having to go to work that day. It was about 10 in the morning. My bed was right next to a window, and as I opened my eyes, I heard the patter and drip of a gentle soaking, slow rain. I lay there in deep contentment. I was probably the only person in all Massachusetts who felt that way on that day, too. I could almost hear a collective groan coming from Martha's Vineyard to the south.
But to me, a rainy day meant the utter leisure of several cups of tea in the Fishmonger's Cafe, along with homebaked toast soaked with butter, and the New York Times. Heaven! I got up and got dressed and did exactly that. Then the next piece of cake was to take myself to the world-famous library at the MBL (which at that time was open 24/7/365) and do nothing but read books and old National Geographics all afternoon long. Exactly that did I do.
That was a memorable day indeed. While I was in bliss, sunken into the comfortable leather sofas at the MBL, my husband Rich, whom I was ordained to meet for the fist time in approximately a week and a half, lay soaking under a tarp in by the Charles River up in Boston, waiting for the Boston Pops to put on their July 4th outdoor concert. He was wet, and in a rotten mood. Me, my toes might have been a bit cold, but I never noticed. There's no more blessed place than a library on a rainy day!
These were taken out of our back window.
I remember a certain July 4th in Woods Hole, in 1978. I was working at a lab there and on that morning I woke up, not having to go to work that day. It was about 10 in the morning. My bed was right next to a window, and as I opened my eyes, I heard the patter and drip of a gentle soaking, slow rain. I lay there in deep contentment. I was probably the only person in all Massachusetts who felt that way on that day, too. I could almost hear a collective groan coming from Martha's Vineyard to the south.
But to me, a rainy day meant the utter leisure of several cups of tea in the Fishmonger's Cafe, along with homebaked toast soaked with butter, and the New York Times. Heaven! I got up and got dressed and did exactly that. Then the next piece of cake was to take myself to the world-famous library at the MBL (which at that time was open 24/7/365) and do nothing but read books and old National Geographics all afternoon long. Exactly that did I do.
That was a memorable day indeed. While I was in bliss, sunken into the comfortable leather sofas at the MBL, my husband Rich, whom I was ordained to meet for the fist time in approximately a week and a half, lay soaking under a tarp in by the Charles River up in Boston, waiting for the Boston Pops to put on their July 4th outdoor concert. He was wet, and in a rotten mood. Me, my toes might have been a bit cold, but I never noticed. There's no more blessed place than a library on a rainy day!
These were taken out of our back window.
posted by craigellachie at 1:41 PM
1 Comments:
Unless it's snuggled in bed, sleeping late on a rainy weekend morning.
Followed by coffee and newspaper (assuming it didn't get too wet).
My favorite is to fall asleep to the sound of a gentle, steady rain. Now that is bliss!
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