Beauty · Fieldnotes · Natural Science

Petrichor + champagne rain

I favor this type of weather, truly I do. I’d pick it over a sunny~up~day most anytime. I’d invite it to rain at least once a week in our land if it were opportune. There’s something healthy about the washing and cleansing of the rainfall… something about the cloudbursts of fresh cool sprinkling sprinkles that brings out a rather poignant mood in me. Something dreamy reflective, especially now as I drive my morning route to work on others with my hands and administer healing to my clients.

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Lights in the distance as well as the ones at the precipice of the roads edge and landscapes outset reflect molecularly and prismatically in the blue glow and gold rays of the dawn’s light…. much is cloaked in a veil of water particles, marring its visibility, making things a little bit more mysterious and magical: these mild elements are gentle and healing today and such good medicine in a myriad of ways.

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I find myself ruminating on a deluge of mistily soaked memories as I sip Earl Grey tea from my mug in one hand and navigate with the other… still paying fine attention to the road and all its wet chatter, as I mentally note the recollections organically dwelling up from the rich soils of subconscious earth, welling forth from the dusk and shade. Thoughts that demand more of an homage than any normal thinking on my part. Thoughts that when giving consideration if I am to wake them from their hibernating slumber, will give back to me three fold, SO they deserves the administering and commitment that reflective attention demands of them.

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I revere the meditative staccato of tapping rain droplets on the windows: recalls me of champagne sparkles or a broken string of pearls scattering across a wood floor. There’s something about the delicate, protective, and insulating veil of rainfall that beckons me to wander with my spiritual feet off down the winding verdant green sodden foliaged paths in my head, through canopies of leaves and up the rarely adventured hillsides in my mind which I usually tend to let over grow with all the wonderful that time lends to cultivate in my busily involved cranium.

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Spaces where the phrenic clematis, cerebral jasmine, subjective wisteria, and clairvoyant ivy takes over when I’ve not pruned and preened the shrubbery there. The entirety of these memorial contemplations have been covered with pretty little bounties of botany lichen and moss. All the kinder and sweet things that grow when nature takes over in my head, you see I don’t allow for the misfortunate and darker shadowy things to remain long in my essence, I tackle them head on and problem solve their demise so I can get going and get on with my blessed life.

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Either way, My visits here insist on a little bit of pruning, be it to shape and refine a bit or send the briars and bind weeds to the burn pile… because I know what lingers in the head eventually takes form in the heart. The power of memory + thought invokes a quint and peculiar alchemy: one of palpable feeling and transfers a potent absolution of dopamine into the bloodstream, which turns into capable action.

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These spring showers, rain in general, can be addictive to me, possibly my second drug of choice next to the printed word. It’s an elixir of champagne. A roadmap of grand cause and effect when I chart it’s a cumulative effects, what they produce when an event of thought initiates a succession of similar thoughts, and feelings, then actions, and furthermore events.

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Now one can see how thought is provokingly + provocatively powerful. It influences ALL. These initial feelings and then the outcome after. Rain is my feel good sensory ritual. Perhaps it’s because I was born in the Pacific Northwest Coast, Washington being my place of origin. Perhaps this is why I’m a water lover/water appreciator.

Rain allows me the golden pass, the mental submerging into these iridescently meditative neurotransmitting depths and pathways within myself. Areas that are usually outshined by my light hearted easy going cadence. The rain must be a quieter voice that tells my circadian rhythm it’s alright to be languid and muted a wee bit. It’s adequate enough to be a little bit slower in movement and action. Reflective.

Rain illuminates, or rather gives substantial weight to what would be my naturally optimistic nature. There’s just something, a je ne sais qua, about how the rain that magnifies and brings out all the spectrum of colors internally as well as externally when one takes the time to let their eyes settle on the scenery. Allowing them to take in the intensity of the vivid and bold chroma that nature is laying out from horizon to rain swept horizon, a gift offering to us in visual and sensory bounty.

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The scent of the air and earth together is invigorating as well. It mingles with our own personal scent, and also makes what molecules of aroma that are maneuvering around the territory brighter and sharper. Water molecules encapsulated and amplify, carry, and stay close to our bodies where they fill up the spaces we walk though… therefore the essential oils of cedarwood and peppermint I like to wear, with the combination of the fresh air, is ambrosial. These magnificent natural scents combined with mist infuse the olfactory and rushes a clean and crisp clarity into my mind. Grounding and marking any event that should happen within this time.

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To top it off, the scent of fresh crushed sage, sprigs of newly sprouted grass, and last seasons leaves and dried things underfoot are richly soul soaking as I walk the path before me to where I am going…. I relish the feel of the mist on my face, breathe in the air, willing the tiny particles to reach every portion of my lungs, and take the long stretches of breadth and touch every cell of my body. I adore it, all soggy and saturated in it’s wonder of botany, soaking up the nutrients for good things to come.

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As far as adventure and wanderings for my tangible feet: I favor how the mist lazily sets on these highlands, it somewhat entices me to rush into the hills the second my first massage service is done today at the Spa. An abandon, I just may give into… since I’ve some errands to do for my children down in the heart of the valley in the meantime. A lark if you must ask me. One that needs taken advantage of.

One things for certain, in all of this meandering and brook babbling… This rain is the cocktail of verdant splendor that will bring forth the flowers of Spring and the brilliance of summer. Call Up all the moss to brighten and to spread its velvet across stones that don’t roll, lichen to splay across the granite and greenery, vines to twist upward, wildflower buds to unfurl as leaves on birch fill up with glory, and the pine split their cones open, as the buffalo grass send seeds with the wind across the prairies and hills, and all that is good are welcoming of the goodness within us.

{Breathe deep + grow well lovely birds and sweet doves, and I will see you in the wind.}


P.s. The attention to my badly needed nails done in a springish neon green, compliments to the darling Molly at SpaMed + the F.H.F. roll on perfume: oh! my! heavens! if you want help breathing go get some p the hill. and make sure to tell the ladies I sent you. wink.