Here, on my little Bit of Earth, it’s raining. And it’s raining that blessed kind of rain that you can hear when you lie in bed. My flower beds are full of new and transplanted plants, and, if you close your eyes, you can feel their roots sucking up the rain.
No one will ever convince me that we don’t spend our lives on the living body of a Goddess. Rain is too direct an act of lovemaking for anything else to be true.
Samhain’s come and gone. The nights are longer and longer. It’s time to sit and think, share a meal with friends. Consider you next steps.
And listen to the rain. It’s an act of love and pleasure and a ritual of the Goddess. And it can seep into your soul, ground you, return you to the present moment, make you whole. You can savor it every bit as much as the foxgloves and alliums.
Picture found here.