It’s late. The rain falls on the house for hours without stopping — a slow, steady rain. The kind that brings the world to life.
Meanwhile I’m here inside, listening to the drumming on the roof.
The dinner guests have gone.
The dishes have been cleaned, the wine glasses placed back on the shelf, upside down, glinting in the yellow light.
After all the laughter, it’s quiet, and suddenly I have space to draw a breath and take it in.
And I realize: it’s enough.
The echoes of conversation and laughter. The fading image of myself with my head on a friend’s shoulder. My husband, now asleep in the next room, his breath easy and slow.
The summer, so wet and green and full.
And oh, God, there is so much more I want to build and be and do. But if this is all I ever have time for — well, then…
It’s enough. ❤