Summer Rain

I sometimes forget how much I love summer rain, even the subdued kind, like the one right now, the kind that lasts for days. The light shifts to green from bouncing off lush wet foliage under a murky sky. There is harmony in the dance of raindrops tapping on the roof, life itself feels softer, more fluid, like its very essence dissolves in the rain.
I walked around the garden for a bit, just to watch it delight in the abundance of water pouring from the sky. If the plants were overgrown before, they sure doubled in size now. The squashes took over the walkway again.
A honeysuckle branch bends over the garden path, forming an archway at just the right point to delineate a loose boundary for the tiny vegetable garden. Behind it the tomatoes are looking trim and neat tied to their supports, pruned and much tamer than the year before.
The cucumber blossoms wink little yellow sparks from unde
eath broad wet leaves. Every now and then the rain stops and a few rays of sunshine pierce through the clouds, orange and softened by the humid air, to make the flowers' cheery hues light up.
It rains, it rains. I am content to just sit in the doorway with my hands wrapped around a hot cup of lemon verbena tea and watch the garden be at peace too.