Funny, I wanted to write a poem about this autumn day. In the midst of a bad sciatic nerve attack that has restricted my movements for days – I fancied writing poetry. Strange, don’t you think?
No, not really. This autumn day in Palo Alto, CA, as I woke up and gazed out my glass patio door, I spotted droplets of early morning rain on my balcony rail, and a gentle sprinkle from above. Slivers of sunbeams pierced through spaces between billows of dark clouds in the sky and danced in the transparencies of the dew drops. I saw the breeze flirting with tree branches for a light shake that caused a dash of colors to slither to the ground. I saw yellows burst out between the bold reds and the earthly browns. Yet, to the left of that brightly spruced tree is a deciduous with leaves that stubbornly stay freshly green, and I wondered why it hasn’t kept pace with its neighbors. And then, I heard the eerily rapturous whisper of the wind pass my balcony glass door.
The truth is, I determined to find reasons to distract me from focusing on the clutch of sciatica. I found them. For one, today shows traces of rain from the night before, and more promise of rain by the looks of the sky. In California, good, temperate rain is manna – the nemesis of fires, the quencher to drought in the land, the much welcomed fresh spray to the air. On a miniscule scale, the plants outside my front door have perked up. The leaves of the jade plant have turned succulently plump, and the slender tendrils of the spider plant convalesced from their sluggish crouch for an aggressive and longer reach. A lot to be thankful for this autumn day.
So, you see why I was inspired to dabble in poetry this autumn day.
A stunning picture of autumn in the Colorado mountain (Photo by Cai Zhang)
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