With bags of groceries in the car,
I sat talking to Sacha on the phone,
while it rained.
Later after I we hung up, it continued to rain steadily giving me way to the desire to sit it out inside my car.
Using the rain as a filter I took photos while waiting cozy dry inside.
My neighborhood parking lot by the church.
The bells rang vespers.
The trees leaves seemed to have bloomed all at once.
Two weeks ago green was nowhere to be seen. Soon the shutters will be hidden from view. The leaves glistens as if jewels.
An impromptu meditation leaning on the steering wheel altar, rain as background music, groceries scenting the air... no hurry, I was thankful I didn't have ice cream melting to worry about in the backseat.
If any of my neighbors happened to see me twisting and turning around and around in my car while taking photos as it rained--
I am sure they shook their heads, as they thought, "What is she doing?" Most likely they labelled me nuts.
The rain magnified the facades: A Provencal rainbow.
Yellow,
Blue,
various shades of the two,
A speck of brown
Green.
Zinc gutters, bark, orange, red tiles.
Sitting there in the sanctuary of my car, the parking lot by the church never looked so pretty.
Rain brings miracles. Holy water. Baptism. Glistening leaves. Puddles to race through. Bird's bath. Instantly washed car.
The yellow house on the corner pretending to be the sun. The pigeon told me the rain had stopped.
The pink chapel that has never been opened since I have lived here.
Though I have peered through the key hole.
Empty.
The rain stopped but the trees dripped, I walked home, carrying the groceries, while thinking about what I was going to make for dinner.
Tomorrow promises sunshine.
