in a room of rain

I left my bed in the middle of the night and went to curl up instead on the sofa. Rain was coming in from the ocean, gentle, tremulous, and I couldn't hear it in my room at the back of the house. Sometimes you have to go where the magic is, if it can't reach you. Because magic is just what it is ... an ocean storm, a grey warbler singing in the hushed moment before a downpour, a constellation that you are learning to name anew, a heart holding secrets, an acorn lying damp and heavy in the forest. It isn't there for you alone; you have to meet it if you want to know it.




The night wasn't particularly cold, for this is high summer despite the storm, but I wrapped a handknit shawl around my cotton nightie anyway. It was a small comfort, a beautiful image, to give myself in the dark. And I listened to night rain, my favourite thing, and I sleepily thought of the story of it until the ache of my bones made me surrender to practicality and return to bed.




People have been making new year resolutions for thousands of years. And so I shall too this year. I resolve to (as much as possible) leave my bed, or my settled moment, or my old dry assumptions, and go meet magic where it is.


4 comments:

  1. I enjoyed reading this. I do similar to feel close to magic and rain at night. What a beautiful resolution to have!

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  2. What a beautiful intention.

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