Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Rainy Days and Tuesdays . . .

The rain this week has been impressive, and it’s at it again. There is a rolling thrum from the rain on the roof. As it rains harder, the thrum gets louder and I can hear the tap-tap-taping on the vinyl siding. Behind me, I can hear individual drops in a higher-pitched procession on the pavement and an additional more metallic and hollow percussion from the rain in the gutters. Then in puffs, there is a soft yet rapid roll of rain slapped—intermittently against the windows.

Looking across the pond, it looks as if someone has blurred or partially erased the color of the trees. In sunlight, the tree borders, in greens, dark yellows, and light reds, are distinct, but today they appear smudged. And, the pond itself ranges from silver to charcoal; its surface is rough.

Despite having not had running water in the house for most of the day due to the water main being replaced, this has been a relatively productive day. Not as productive as yesterday—but not bad. I’ve worked; I’ve read; I’ve written. And now, a little voice inside my head says I should go to the gym. It really wouldn’t be that hard. I could throw my hair up into a ponytail. Toss on some running gear, grab my sneakers, and go. I could even listen to a podcast or some music. But on a gray day like today, the gym is just going to be damp and sweaty and gray. It won’t feel like being on a hike in Washington or even on a trail here in Mass. There will be the electric hum of all of the machines and the din of voices and TVs in the echo-y warehouse that is the gym.

What a day like today begs for is a fireplace, a cup of tea, a good book, and an operation to remove even the slightest twinge of guilt.

1 comment:

  1. If you find a sugeon to remove the guilt let me know. I'll check to see if my med insurance will pay.


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