Showers of Respite and Blessing

Already the break is welcomed. It has been mere days since we punched holes in the soil and filled them with flowers; a scant week since we fingered the clumped roots of begonias and pansies and geraniums and various other blossoms-in-formation into their new homes with a pack of potting soil, a prayer for growth and a commitment to tend. And dutifully each morning I have trekked to the deck with a full water bucket and sprinkled each thirsty pot. Every morning I have unwound the hose, first in the front and then in the back, to spray the beds. And it has felt good -- grounding, if that's not too close to a pun; participatory. I have felt a certain and satisfying stewardship of the nascent stems and leaves.

But I'll confess that when the rains showered our neighborhood yesterday and again today I betrayed a quiet sigh of relief. It's not that I'm already sick of the task. It is, after all, a paltry 10 minutes of very little effort. It makes no dent in my schedule; takes no toll on my energies. It is, rather, the knowing responsibility; the burden of constancy; the implied tether to the tending. I don't want to over-dramatize it -- we are just talking about begonias, after all -- it's just that my altogether trivial, if daily, sense of responsibility and the welcomed respite of the rain have given me pause to reflect on a more significant conversation I had in recent days with a neighbor. He had taken the toddler boy who lives next door to him for a walk around the cul de sac -- to pet a dog's nose, to touch a new blossom, to toss grass clippings, but primarily to give the single mother a break; a welcomed chance to catch her own breath and look into the mirror for a moment to recollect something of who she is. It isn't unlike another neighbor I see early each morning walking the dog that belongs to another neighbor increasingly disabled and limited.

A break. A blessed and blessing rain shower of grace that even if only for a few moments relaxes the ever-present responsibility for keeping nascent life stretching, instead of withering.

And if I appreciated the rain, I appreciate even more my neighbors who take it upon themselves to offer a little shower of their own.