Rain came down. They stayed indoors in shelter from sodden sky. Cracked window, cool entered and slow-filled the room as they listened to the sound of rain on cement patter and quieter to lawn.
Scent of coffee filled the room as last of pot was brewed. Tendril of vine fell beside, dark of a permanent, sheltered green; and she looked from it then to lawn outside. There was a difference of between.
Outside, color less dark, shone greater in its life—even in gray and rain; and pattern of grass showed in spread and changing tones from first cutting of the season—lighter of the lower leaves from cut and regrowth of darker green.
Real life, unprotected and insulated, was not uniform—consistent and unchanging. Protected, insulated—like the vine in indoor, potted, fall—still gave growth; but it was not the same as natural and wild.
She thought of it then, the life she led: was it more natural, open, or insular and lived in protection of walls from risks and rains and the cycles and seasons of living?
Was she in her season hue, dynamics of spring-growth, or a vine on indoor shelf—sheltered, growing, but not as nature and wild’s intent?
Rain fell heavier then, still soft—but greater than before. She watched raindrops in strike to the earth, splash of report in strike to cement’s fixed and hardened surface.
She saw it too on puddles in the lawn, less violence of report as landing showed in lesser splash and concentric circle-spread in absorb into watered hold.
She wanted the wild again, to feel and live and express the full dynamics of her hues—not constant, not steady, but in suddenness of burst and display when what wanted lived and shown was there.
Yes, there would be winters—seasons of still and cold. Yes, there would be summers—seasons of aridity when one wishes for the rain, and it doesn’t come. But there, too, were autumns and springs; when hidden colors showed, there was growth or dying away; changing, variety, beauty and awe because one knows what is seen and lived and loved is not constant and forever, but ephemeral of a moment—and for that, one loves completely while it’s there.
What kind of life was she living? What kind of life did she desire?
She moved nearer to the window, cool raising goosebumps of her skin as she listened more intent to rainfall’s sounds.
She went upstairs. She disrobed her body of night’s cover and warmth and for a time stood naked by windowed vantage knowing in lightless backdrop of the room, she was invisible to eyes looking in. She gazed on the lawn and rest beyond, and too redbud’s richness at her side, just beyond the glass divide.
She wanted to live and bloom like that—even in cool and rain; when world’s darkness brings about hue-brilliance all the more.
She felt the cool, even through glass, and covered herself in crossed arms across her chest, rest of her body open and touched of coolness through the pane.
She moved. She dressed—in denim jeans and shin-high boots, long sleeve t-shirt, flannel above and cardigan in final layer. She donned stocking cap to cover head and, dressed, she went outdoors to walk in the rain.
In urban scene, for a time, to live and sense as wild again.
On her walk, she mused, thinking on life-direction and her dreams. What did she want? Did she defer, wait, deny, or seek? Why?
Slowly, rain soaked through, cold and clammy to her skin.
A shiver came. She crossed her arms again, walking still in the rain.
She didn’t know why, but it was as she wished to be—for a time, to know and remember how it felt to be open and present and living when sky was not all light.
Returned, she undressed from the wetness; cool shock of open air to skin as last cover of layer stripped away into nakedness and openness to sense.
She stood again in open-free at window’s view.
Rain lessened. Hint of sun glowed in the sky in burning through fade of cloud. Redbud brightened, hue warming of the glow. She smiled, and warmed as well, in hope and seeing of the sight.
Ready for and desiring warmth, she left the window view.
She turned the showerhead to run. Water’s fall sounded in strike to the claw tub’s bottom. She drew the shower curtain closed as water warmed and billow of cloud began in build.
Cloud built, billowing in rise above and from drawn curtain of the bath, she opened and brought herself within; new sense, new feel, alive and soothe.
Body changed. Body sensed, rosing in envelop and wash-caress of heat: brightened as the redbud, glowing in warm-touched sense.
Outside and through, sun continued burning through, expanding with a gentleness that touched and sensed shone, as she.
She was ready for the sun again, further sensings, change, and hues; for immersion and life as wild, where and how she lived her peace.