Last week, we got a tremendous storm here: purple skies and dark clouds and lightning. I sat out on the back deck and watched it roll in.
It was dusk. The bats were out—flitting back and forth.
There was a wren working on a nest up high in a pine tree.
The clouds kept changing. The sky got darker. The lightning flashed.
The wind picked up.
The rain finally started.
And I sat there in a deck chair with nothing in my hands—no book, no phone, no notebook, no camera, no intention, no plan.
I was just there, present, getting rained on.
And what I thought was: This is the best. I need to do this more often.

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