In a steady rain, my daughter sets the table for dinner. For months, we’ve eaten on our deck. I suggest, as I’m sautéing onions, that she set the dining room table.
Giggling, she lays plates on the glass table outside, sets out forks, and then digs in the drawer for napkins.
Really? I say, napkins? They’ll get wet.
I don’t mind eating outside by myself, she answers, still giggling.
This has been a long day, a long however many weeks that have widened into months of coronavirus, that will likely be a long year or years. We’d planned to be in Maine these days, soaking up sunlight and the sand, but quarantining upon return isn’t feasible. She knows this; she doesn’t argue.
Still laughing, she takes a jar of pickles and sets it on the table. From inside, I see raindrops bounce off its unopened top. When she comes back, I say, Don’t forget cups. I’m eating outside with you, too.
All who have achieved excellence in art possess one thing in common; that is, a mind to be one with nature, throughout the seasons.
11 thoughts on “Rain for Dinner”
It seems good fortune, this dinner in the rain. ❤️
I hope so! Couldn’t we all use a little more good fortune right now?
I like her spirit!🌲
We might be getting a little punchy around here. 🙂
Good call on her part. Oregon approves.
Oh, a little rainy in your world?
Not when I wrote that but frequently. We had a rare August rain yesterday and I went biking in it. It was glorious.
Love the image of you two eating outside in the rain!
I love your recipes!
Thank you Brett Ann! And I look forward to your posts as well!