There appears to be moisture in the air this morning and the garage apron looks wet. I’m not going to dignify it and say its rain. Although, we need rain, and it would be nice if some would come. From what I can see of the clouds in the dark of the morning sky, they look promising. But clouds have been known to give promising looks before and then ultimately disappoint. I’m going to wait until it falls in quantities large enough to actually warrant the appellation, rain.

I mowed a bit yesterday and when I say, a bit, I mean it. I was looking out the kitchen window at the driveway, which is mostly decomposed granite, and noticed tallish stalks of dead grass blowing about in the breeze. Not a lot, just a smattering, but noticeable, nonetheless. It gave off the sort of look that a cinematographer might use in a movie to hint subtly at desolation or abandonment. It bothered me. I got out the little push mower and cut them down. Its only winter not the apocalypse. Since I had the mower out I trimmed up the little Tifway yard, too. The grass is dormant, mowing it was a breeze.

After the mowing, I took a walk around the yard and made mental notes of things to do which is a nice way to make yourself feel busy without actually doing any work. They call it planning. One thing I plan to do is move a big metal sunflower that was a favorite of my wife out from behind the big rose bush she planted. The rose in question is treetop tall and just as wide, and the sunflower is invisible. Of course, now I need to figure out where to put it. It will come to me, maybe in a dream. But there’s no rush. Revelations take their own time. They can’t be rushed.