Rainy Day #1

Remember when you were a child, just before summer, when dreams of staying up all night chasing fireflies invaded your sleep?
Summer is here. Summer rains catapult the mountains into life. Rivers rage with melted snow and flowers scatter among the wide variety of plants commonly called grass. The woodpile, once so meticulously kept clear, shrouds itself with varying shades of green and peppers itself with bright yellows and vivid purples. I've never desired a wild growing yard so much. I'm told this is a fire hazard however, so a day of domestication looms.
After so many months of snow, cold, and wind, summer seems fleeting. Like the left-behind shirt of a lover, summer's scent will fade. The earth will dry up like the tears of happiness. The leaves will change, the chameleons of northern climes.
But for now, glory of life reigns. The elk appear fat, the birds cry out in lust for life, and even the coyotes appear less agitated (I hear them cry out less often).
As for me, I content myself listening to rain meet my roof. I enjoy a cup of coffee and resign myself to my thoughts. Most of the time, and I do mean most, I smile, as only a person who found the end of the rainbow could.