Nothing on the calendar today so I sit and read and watch the rain fall and fall and fall.  The hills turn green and the danger of fire is over for the year. The sound is sweet and I reflect back on my life, on moments and days, so tender, as memories sink like rain to ground and trees.   

Stanley Kunitz wrote: It is out of the dailiness of life that one is driven into the deepest recesses of the self.

I see.