Rainy days such as was yesterday, April 13, 2014 (Palm Sunday) have a way of invoking memories.
Others, not so much …
But since this is Holy Week and on Sunday we Christians will celebrate the triumphal resurrection of our Savior, this brief post will focus on happier ones.
For me, a cold, dreary rainy day is perfect for brewing a pot of coffee, grabbing a book and settling in the recliner with a good book and a piping, hot cup of Java on the chair-side end table.
As did I yesterday.
But a younger me, with fewer arthritic issues and possessing knees of bone and cartilage rather than plastic and steel often used a rainy day to seek peaceful meditation in a glistening wooded glen.
There’s something about walking through the muted stillness of a softly-falling rain that evokes a profound tranquility of the soul.
Especially during this time of year …
The cold rain seems the perfect counterpoint to the budding green of the trees and the bursting forth of pure white and heavenly perfumed blossoms of the honey locust insist that despite the chill, spring is in the air.
It is a perfect time for serious reflection and introspection.
As is especially fitting during this week …