Day 191
It was a perfectly mizzly day.
That sounds like something Winnie the Pooh would say, but the word mizzly (though I’d truly love to say I coined it myself) is from one of my very favorite poems found in the book Piping Down the Valleys Wild by Nancy Larrick. It is a book I’ve had since my children’s lit class in college … one of those books that you wish you’d had when you were a child, but then wonder if you would have really appreciated it when younger.
The poem is by Aileen Fisher and is entitled … “I Like It When It’s Mizzly” …
I like it when it’s mizzly and just a little drizzly so everything looks far away and make-believe and frizzly.
I like it when it’s foggy and sounding very froggy. I even like it when it rains on streets and weepy windowpanes and catkins in the poplar tree and me.
Now, how lovely is that!
I let Mobes out a little before 4 o’clock this morning (yawn) and the skies were just starting to spit a bit. By 7:30 we had a nice shower going on and it has continued for the last 12 (or so) hours … on and off … heavy and light. There is still the pitter patter of drops falling from the overflowing gutters (I knew they needed cleaning!) … and it is just wonderful.
I think an early bedtime is in order so I can drift off to sleep by that watery lullaby.
I’m sure there are those that think I’m rather crazy when I say I love these cool, wet days. Can’t help it. I just do. I love gray days. I love rain. I get productive … and sometimes very lazy … but no matter what I find it soothing and rejuvenating. I’m a water baby … it does something to me.
I lived for 33 years in Colorado … a state that boasts 300+ days of sunshine. Talk about living in the wrong place! Give me a good rain shower over sunshine any day.
I know, throw me up in the northwest for a month and I might go stir-crazy … but I think I’d be willing, at some point in my life, to try it out and see!
Anyway … it was a perfectly mizzly day. The dogs slept. The cats snuggled in. And I worked for 7 hours straight on my computer – getting up only to stretch and feed the four-legged roomies. My kind of day!
The planes were flying today but I could pretend their roar was distant thunder as it fit the day. Now, not so much, but for a while it was nice to not think about what was so closely flying overhead. The lone train whistle I heard earlier echoes in my memory … it was like music on this rainy day.
Why is it that I find train whistles so comforting? Maybe it’s the sound of freedom or going home … or something that is more innate that stirs the soul from somewhere deep within and long ago.
I don’t know. I just know that they sound perfectly wonderful on gray, rainy days like this.
And, I know the sun is coming back as are warmer temps … but for me … I like it when it’s mizzly.