Mist

North Country mists are common as a copper penny,

If the snow has stopped

and if the sky is not threatening tornados with torrents and lightening, 

Well then, the weather gives us mist.

 

Never be deterred by a hazy spray 

Spring or summer solitary walking in a gentle rain is a meditation.

In the dog days, the gentle moisture cools the heat.

In the spring the tiny almost unseen droplets perceptibly transform brown dormant things to green lush life.

Mist falling drives the weak and weary people from the streets, sidewalks, side yards and driveways leaving one to one’s own thoughts and perceptions.

 

All the contrivances of humanity, gutters and flashings, drainpipes, rain barrels and sewer grates,

Are made known in the mist.

The work of human hands is futile against nature,

Rain will find the earth.

 

Falling quietly almost silently you hear the collecting water 

At critical mass the liquid tings and gurgles and makes that slow sliding sound as it reaches the end of a downspout, 

The mist is seeking the earth,

The mist seeking the moment of cleansing and rebirth.

 

Mist so common in the North Country,

Shows us human folly,

Shows us natural healing,

Observe and absorb.