“Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons, It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.”— Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
While the Gods hoovered around us, and by us, and even over us
The corn harvest came to a final end, as the draining light fled the sky
Which was a good thing, because last night the clouds came in
Bringing to us chilly rain
a dripping and damp (but clean) earth
Then for a second, as the clouds parted for a wee small moment
Another Sundog glossed the clouds, simmering in rainbow colors. Quickly the clouds slid thickly over and the rains started to pour.
Our roof now echoes with the drumming of moisture.
All is well.
From my world to your heart,