These were the days I lived for as a girl. When blanket of grey covered the skies and rain fell in rhythm or cacophony upon my rooftop. Such is today. I am sitting on my couch by the window with half of the curtain open, watching the world through rain-spattered glass. Autumnal trees wave in the wind, which elicits a shudder from my shutters now and again. The one difference between here in Indiana where I live now and where I grew up in the Cayman Islands is the clouds. Growing up, I never noticed the clouds move. I knew they did but I never witnessed it. Right now, I am watching the lower layer of Gandalf-grey clouds cross my windowpane and it looks like watching a time-lapse video, they are moving so quickly. There’s a grace and a beauty to it, however, that unquantifiable.
Days like this are some of my favorites. Days made for blankets, tea, a journal, a good book, candles, lamps off, window curtains open, and utter quiet in the house. These are days made for peace. And we all know that peace plays very hard to get these days. In a world where we worry about our jobs, our finances, our spouses, our children, our health, our expectations, our dreams, as well as those of others, peace proves very elusive, doesn’t it? That is why I pray for days like these, days when peace becomes an almost tangible state-of-being. Days when, in the middle of all the busyness and madness of the rat race of life, nature itself manufactures a semblance of peace (ironically, amidst a weatherly tumult) to calm our nerves, soothe our aching, tired hearts, and give us just a moment or two of “ahhhhhh”. Even if it only lasts a little while.