<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Cold October Rain<\/span><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n It\u2019s not supposed to be this way. The rain I mean. The sullen, gray skies belong in November, not now, not here, not in October. The October rain is cold and steady. The day is morose and dark. Not a sad day but a melancholy mood could set in if I were not careful. The October rain comes too early; the world outside seems out-of-step with the world inside my mind.<\/span><\/p>\n I think we all sometimes let the little things carry our minds off to some dark corner where we don\u2019t like to be. I am sure we all do it although don\u2019t think anyone does it intentionally.<\/span><\/p>\n I hear the rhythm of rain pounding on the window from which I\u2019ve observed many sunny, unseasonably warm, October days recently.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cListen to the rhythm of the falling rain,<\/span> But the seasons, like life, are a balance of good and bad, happy and sad, pleasure and pain, and beginnings and endings. No season goes gently into its own good night. No person should go gently into that good night either. I will not, At least I hope not.<\/span><\/p>\n You never know exactly how you\u2019re going to feel when the race is done.<\/span><\/p>\n The rain, like tiny sabers made of ice, stabs at my summer skin. I\u2019m not ready for this. Not ready for the pounding roar of the November gales or the chilling rain that cuts through my skin and slices down to my bones. I\u2019m not ready.<\/span><\/p>\n But, in the grand scheme of things, the seasons and life will bring what they will and all we can do is do the best we can \u2013 and be the best we can be. And knowing that sometimes I won\u2019t be prepared for what life or the seasons bring, I am thus better prepared for the unknown.<\/span><\/p>\n The older I get the more aware of this I become.<\/span><\/p>\n Summer has come and gone, but it was a good one; it certainly did not go gentle into that good night. It stayed with us well into October this year. The sunny, hot, humid days and warm, muggy nights stayed with us right into the breast of autumn. But like many things, it stayed beyond its time. Summer fought a brilliant and valiant fight for its life \u2013 right up to the end. But, in the end, it lost to a cold, biting October rain. The October rain.<\/span><\/p>\n Or did it? Maybe it really didn\u2019t lose at all. Maybe it was time for it to go. Maybe it was tired and ready to let go. Summer in October was out-of-season and out-of-place. It didn\u2019t belong there. It lost its purpose; it lost its way.<\/span><\/p>\n The crops were grown and harvested, the trees were tired and barely awake, and the flowers were exhausted \u2013 brown and dying. Autumn was born and it is its time to live. Summer needed to die. It only the cycle of the seasons, and it is just like the cycle of life.<\/span><\/p>\n The October rain is pounding on my window, the skies are leaden and burgeoning with gloom. It\u2019s strange but now that the sun has gone away, I cannot remember what a sunny day looks like. I can close my eyes and I can visualize it, but I can\u2019t \u201cfeel\u201d it. I can\u2019t feel the bright warm rays on my skin.<\/span><\/p>\n But any visualizations I have of sunny days aren\u2019t nearly as good as a single sunny day. That\u2019s a good thing. Summer deserves its own time; a sunny summer day is a fleeting treasure \u2013 as it should be.<\/span><\/p>\n I have a strange way of thinking. The sunny summer day reminds me that when I am ill I cannot quite remember what it feels like to be well. And when I am well, I can\u2019t quite remember what it feels like to be sick. But even I can\u2019t really remember what it feels like to be sick. I\u2019m quite sure I don\u2019t want to be sick. There is always something that seems to be trying to keep us in the present and focused on the moment. And that\u2019s a good thing. Because all we really have for sure is now.<\/span><\/p>\n The October rain will end sometime soon, and the sun will come back. And though summer died today, it will be born again when it is time. And that\u2019s all I need to know.<\/span><\/p>\n I don\u2019t remember what summer felt like, so I\u2019ll enjoy the rain today \u2013 as cold and brutal and as stinging and heartless as it may be.<\/span><\/p>\n Right now I\u2019m going to put on my rain gear and go for a walk in the wind and the rain and be glad I\u2019m alive. Tomorrow, when the sun shines, I won\u2019t remember exactly how the rain sounded or how the icy rain felt on my face; tomorrow I will enjoy the sun and the painted autumn trees and try hard to remember a summer that fought so hard to stay alive even in the October \u2013 the month of the fading light.<\/span><\/p>\n And like the seasons, we all have our time. We need to make the best of it. I was reminded recently, by a dear friend of mine who quoted Mohammed Ali \u2013 \u201cDon\u2019t count the days, make the days count\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n We don\u2019t know how many days we have left. So why bother counting. We need to make every day count. There are things which are important and things that are not \u2013 and sometimes it\u2019s not so easy to tell the difference. If you don\u2019t believe that, look around you. It seems everyone wants to be young as long as they can, even when they are old. To be young is to be envied in our world. But youth, like summer, fades into the autumn of our lives and then we find ourselves in the winter of old age. But just because I am in the winter of my life, I won\u2019t go gentle into that good night. No one should want to.<\/span><\/p>\n Do not go gentle into that good night,<\/span> Though wise men at their end know dark is right,<\/span> (Dylan Thomas \u201cDo not go gentle into that good night\u201d)<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n Sometimes it\u2019s hard to live within ourselves. So many things try to tug me one way or the other. To know what is important and what is not is not an easy task.<\/span><\/p>\n My season has turned to winter and I can no longer remember what that warm, summer sun felt like on my skin. No matter how much I long for summer it won\u2019t come no matter how much I wish it would. I am better off accepting my winter and enjoying it as much as I can.<\/span><\/p>\n The seasons of life and the seasons of nature are endlessly changing. All of us are in a season of life. Some of us are in the springtime of life, and others, like me, are in the winter of life. Everyone else is somewhere in between.<\/span><\/p>\n In the end, it will not matter how much money I made, how many material things I\u2019ve collected, or what I accomplished, the only thing that will matter is how much I am loved by the ones I love.<\/span><\/p>\n My winter is here, and I will rage, rage against the dying of the light, the only way I will ever see another spring is through the memories of those who loved me.<\/span><\/p>\n The October rain is cold. Its icy fingers stab my summer skin. I\u2019m chilled.<\/span><\/p>\n The dark and melancholy October sky took the hot summer away. But I do love the October rain \u2013 it will make the next sunny day seem even brighter and the autumn trees look all the more vivid.<\/span><\/p>\n And on the next sunny day, I won\u2019t remember exactly what these icy drops of rain felt like. This moment in time is the only moment I have; it\u2019s all I can experience.<\/span><\/p>\n Memories fade and they are always colored by the now No memory will ever be accurate \u2013 they will never be exactly the way they really were. Memories are always distorted by \u201cnow\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n Yesterday was tomorrow, and tomorrow will be today. And the cycle of life and of seasons will go on until the end of the world. \u201cNo doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n I walk through the October rain toward an unknown tomorrow \u2013 enjoying this moment on a dark and rainy October day. Yesterday is miles behind me and tomorrow is miles away. This moment is a gift, and I am thankful for it.<\/span><\/p>\n I am thankful for this day and for the October rain.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Cold October Rain It\u2019s not supposed to be this way. The rain I mean. The sullen, gray skies belong in November, not now, not here, not in October. The October rain is cold and steady. The day is morose and dark. Not a sad day but a melancholy mood could set in if I were\u2026 Read More »<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":13582,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[228],"tags":[1720],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20247"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20247"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20247\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20248,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20247\/revisions\/20248"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/13582"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20247"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20247"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20247"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nTelling me just what a fool I\u2019ve been.<\/span>
\nI wish that it would go and let me cry in vain<\/span>
\nAnd let me be alone again\u2026\u201d<\/span>
\n(The Cascades \u201cRhythm of the Rain\u201d \u2013 written by John C. Gummoe)<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n
\nOld age should burn and rave at close of day;<\/span>
\nRage, rage against the dying of the light.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nBecause their words had forked no lightning they<\/span>
\nDo not go gentle into that good night\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n