Tonight after dinner I slogged through chores in the kind of storm late October makes her reputation on. Whorling leaves and rain that seems to come from below as much as it does above. And while I might have found myself thinking of all the ways Weather will get the better of us this week, I couldn't help but feel a little thrill in my chest as I slid on rain-softened acorns underfoot. It's a short and easy path to feeling alive- getting out in it like that, and don't we need this rain. We, generally, as in the people tending earth around here; but also We, more specifically, as in the people tending geese on this little hill from which I transmit. Our front porch is a shit-Pollock of their making and for a clean canvas, a good rain is second only to a good fence- a thing which we have not got. And so she said: blessed be the rain.