a day for ducks

When my youngest was little, we religiously, daily, sometimes twice or thrice daily, watched PBS's Arthur. We loved it. It was a great mama and little boy together time. After a while, the character voices changed, and then the show in general changed, my youngest grew up, and needless to say, I haven't seen an episode of Arthur in years.

That has absolutely nothing to do with this post.

On one particular very rainy day in Arthur's talking animal world, the kids paid a visit to their Grandma Thora, who greeted them at the door with, "Well if this isn't a day for ducks!"

That phrase stuck with me. I like it. A lot. It's the perfect way to describe a dreary, drizzly, rainy day.

Today is a day for ducks here on the farm. We usually don't get socked in, constant, pouring rain here in Montana. It usually comes and goes fairly quickly, and while it might be raining at my house, it's probably not raining at my friend's house just a mile or two away.

It has been raining the vast majority of the last twelve days.

At everyone's house.


This is my usually manicured front lawn.


We fertilized right before the rain hit - always a good plan - but at this point, we may as well call the guy that does our haying for us. The foreseeable forecast is for rain, so I pity the fool who has to mow this mess when we finally dry out.

(Just watch, it will be me, as my usual mower always seems to be able to pull out the always lame and much over used, "I have to go to school" on the only nice day in weeks. School, schmool. Whatever.)

Our mountains have almost disappeared. If you look really close, you might see a faint outline against the gray.


Now, to the actual reason for this impromptu post.

Last night, I was firmly settled in my comfy chair, laptop in lap, television on. It's a common sight around here and quite appropriate for a rainy evening.

Out my window, this is what I see.


The clouds virtually disappeared in moments.

The dandelions in our field were glowing in the sun.


It was absolutely gorgeous, and the camera does not do it any kind of justice.

I tried anyway.

Wheel line with sun flare.


Wheel line without sun flare.


Which do you like better? I can't decide myself.

Leaves were transparent and beautiful with the light shining through.


Even things commonplace and usually overlooked took on a sparkly new life.


The light was electric. Colors were saturated.


An obsession with reflections was born in an instant.








And then this morning.


The light went back to being gray and flat.

But an obsession with water droplets, not a new obsession mind you, was given its chance to shine.












Dear Rain,
I appreciate your recent visit. I know we need you. Desperately. I profusely thank you for the wonderful job you are doing. You are bringing life to our drought ridden valley and for that I will be eternally grateful.
But, I'm feeling a bit stifled. You're getting a bit clingy, and I think it might be time for a break. You certainly may come back and visit, but we are going to have to establish some boundaries.
I have to say, the fact that you have totally ignored my suggestion that you come each night, then leave during the day is a bit irritating. It smacks of an uncooperative attitude.
I feel you are not listening to me.
In any relationship, communication is key.
I look forward to you giving this matter your full attention as soon as possible.
Sincerely,
Teresa