The Buddha, The Dharma, The Sangha

"Spiritual powers and their wondrous functioning--hauling water and carrying firewood." --Layman Pang, upon his realization

Monday, March 14, 2011

Winter's Final Roar?

This is how impermanence rides in: the day began with rain, and the temperature rose to 49 degrees in the afternoon. A gentle shower to begin, until it is raining sideways, blowing a gale, a place where nothing remains dry.

We went to a late brunch to celebrate my husband's birthday. It was a dressy affair, and my tights were sodden going from car to restaurant. Our table faced a gorgeous view of the sleeping gardens and the pine trees beyond, and we watched everything turn inside out.
Midway through a delicious meal, the roof began to leak directly above our table, just one very big drop at a time, and as that one drop fell, it flew out to spatter my husband. We laughed, because the vaulted ceiling had been painted to resemble a sunny day, with barely a cloud in sight.

If it had not been for those giant drops, we could have remained right there. It was fun to watch the water fall indoors, but our wait staff moved us, a little bit chagrined. Ah, the man who painted the ceiling is not going to be happy, they said.

By the time we left our meal, the temperature had dropped 20 degrees and everything was raw, edgy and gray. Even the tender shoots of crocus were tucked in, heads down.

Still flying sideways, the rain turned to sleet and then to snow, a snow-out by 7 p.m. and everything began to look like the set of a B movie where they spray snow from a can. It was thick and crazy, plastering whole sides of vertical surfaces, sticky.
And in the morning, 3 inches of cake frosting!
It was gone by the morning of the following day, and maybe March has gone out like the lion, a roar, a thrust, a scare tactic only half heartedly attempted, and the lamb is tripping sweetly down the hill.

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