Posted tagged ‘dark clouds’

“There’s no such thing as a vote that doesn’t matter.”

October 21, 2016

This morning I slept late. It was cozy under the warm comforter. The dog sensing I was awake stood up. I just stayed in bed. Fern joined us. I finally decided to get up. It was almost nine. I got downstairs, let Gracie outside, made coffee and then fetched my newspapers. The street was wet on the sides so it must have rained last night. I missed it.

The forecast is for rain today, and I thought it was going to rain earlier when the sun disappeared and dark clouds took over the sky. Since then the sun has reappeared, but it doesn’t look all that comfortable surrounded as it is by clouds. It may yet rain.

Okay, I have a confession to make. I have become an MSNBC junkie. When I was in Ghana, I saw the first debate. I read all the comments, all the fallout, and had a few laughs. I also got irritated, majorly irritated. My friend Bill advised me not to read anymore, but I couldn’t stop. I was in the grip of this horrific campaign. Now it is worse. I watched the last two debates and the Al Smith dinner last night. I watched the fact checker after the last debate and saw how many Pinocchios Mr. Trump received. Even now, I have MSNBC in the background. I’m beginning to  feel like a gawker.

I have always voted. I believe it is the responsibility of every citizen who is of age. My first election was 1968. I had to wait back then until I was twenty-one. My candidate did not win. When I was in Ghana, I got an absentee ballot, but it arrived too late. The election was already over. I sent it in anyway, by air mail.

My town still uses paper and pen ballots. For the first time, I will be able to vote early, starting next week. I check in by my address at a table where two women sit. Every election it is the same two women. We always say hi. I go behind the curtain and vote then  put my ballot in the box. I usually know the police officer standing beside the box. I then go to a different table to check out by street address. Two women sit at that table as well. We usually have a bit if a chit chat then I’m done. I proudly put my I voted sticker on my shirt.

“…I don’t just wish you rain, Beloved – I wish you the beauty of storms…”

March 23, 2014

More croci and snowdrops have bloomed in the front garden which gets the first sun in the morning. The purple crocus is the newest one. It sits among the many yellow croci. More snowdrops have bloomed beside the steps. Their white flowers are brilliant against the dark of last year’s mulch. Every morning the garden seems to have a new flower, a surprise for me.

A light grey cloudy sky hides the sun. When I look out the den window, the bare branches look stark. The sun usually softens the look of them. No buds have appeared yet, not even on my forsythia always the first to bloom.

When I was a really little kid, I didn’t notice the subtleties of the world around me. I noticed the changing leaves in fall, the trees full of green shading the sidewalk on my way to school and the snow and the rain. I didn’t notice the smell of summer rain or the strange color of the sky before a snow storm until I was a little older. I always wondered how I could have missed them, the wonderful pieces of the changing weather.

I remember how the sky would start to darken and the darkness would deepen and spread. I knew a storm was coming, a huge storm, and I got to watch it from the very beginning. My heart would beat a little faster as the clouds, dark, threatening and scary, moved above me. Sometimes I could even see the rain coming at me, and I’d run into the house. I’d sit by the window and watch it all unfold in front of me. The drops were heavy and there were so many the rain ran like a river in the gutters along the street. The houses near mine became indistinct, hidden by the rain.

I stayed and watched. Sometimes the rain stopped slowly small drop by small drop. Other times it just stopped, finished in its fury.