Have you ever noticed the lighting at the edge of night - right at dusk, especially after a rain. The light has a sort of haze to it - sometimes gray, sometimes yellow, sometimes pink. The colors of trees, grass, leaves...everything...seem to take on a brighter, almost unrealistic hue. It is as if we step into a world that exists, right on the edge, between day and night. It is a world that is only revealed because the rain has washed away the barrier that keeps us from seeing it on every other day. It is a beautiful place - and it calls to me.
Last night, I was looking at such a world from my kitchen window. I was compelled to take a walk, so I allowed myself the time to enjoy this special time of day. Rain still fell from the leaves of the trees and its coolness was a balm to my skin. The squirrels were about, chattering incessantly. The leaves and pine needles did not make any noise underfoot, because the ground was soggy enough to cushion my footfalls quietly. The air was fresh, cool and moist. I could have stayed out there all night, but the reality of my life (those dishes in the kitchen) was not going away by itself. As I returned to the house, a gentle rain once again began to fall. I stood there for a few moments with my face upturned, allowing the rain to wash away the stress and pain and aggravations of the day that my walk had loosened from my mind.
Once inside, I watched the rain from my kitchen window and I completed my mundane tasks and thought about how special something as simple as a rain shower at dusk can be.