The Further Adventures of Donna Parker: Poems and Other Thoughts

THERE WILL COME SOFT RAINS

This poem by Sara Teasdale has a title which has always appealed to me. Even though the poem is about how nature will survive and continue to flourish even if man destroys himself by war, the first part of the poem has always epitomized for me the loveliness of slow, gentle rain falling. My high school senior English teacher, Dorothy Perkins, was the first to introduce me to "fine English mists." Growing up in West Texas, I either knew about thunderstorms which produced downpours and floods and baseball sized hail, or I knew of drought. But I have definitely come to love the soft rains of summer. I appreciated the fact that Baton Rouge receives a good deal of rain, and like my sister-in-law who lives in Colorado, I love the Louisiana rains. (Those of you living in BR would tell me enough is enough, however, since you've had quite a lot in recent days. If you saw the map on the network news tonight of all the states which are still suffering drought conditions, maybe you wouldn't mind the rain.)

Here at Ridgehaven, we have had a good bit of rain this past week as well. For about three wonderful days, it rained slowly and softly and gently. Mornings and evenings both, the ridges between us and Cold Mountain were heavy with fog and mist, which fascinates me to no end to just watch from my recliner on the porch. We had about 2 1/2 inches of this kind of rain, which was much needed by the yard, the meadow, and the garden. Sunday we had the hardest rain I've seen up here with over 2 inches falling within about 45 minutes. Although I'm sure much of it rain off, I was glad to see it.

My sweet Gladys

My friends sometimes laugh at me because I watch the Weather Channel so much and am so interested in what the weather is going to do. I guess that's the Bill and Gladys in me. Although I grew up as a city girl, I suppose my fascination with weather is ingrained in me from all those years they spent on the farm. Mom amazed me by always knowing what direction the wind was coming out of, no matter what town she was in. "The wind is getting up out of the south, she'd tell me." I am so directionally challenged I can barely tell what direction south is even looking at the compass in my truck, but she had an incredible sense of direction. Mom, the farm woman, would also appreciate the garden Carol has put in. We've enjoyed yellow squash, zucchini, radishes, and hopefully soon some wonderful tomatoes. Carol grew up in the city too, but her dad was a farmer at heart and still loves his garden, and it makes me happy to see this long-time dream of hers, our own vegetable garden, coming to fruition (is that a mixed metaphor???). In a few weeks when she goes out of town, it will be my responsibility to care for the garden, so I better start memorizing what plants are what. I'm good with many of them, but not the carrots and onions and radishes. I guess if something starts poking itself out of the ground, I'll pull it up and see what's there!!

GOOD FENCES MAKE GOOD NEIGHBORS

There's another poem I think most people misunderstand about neighbors. Contrary to popular belief, Robert Frost was not advocating walling out one's neighbor, I don't think. Instead, he seemed to be quoting the popular saying where he lived. Fortunately for us, we don't have a fence between ourselves and our wonderful neighbors. In fact, fences would completely ruin the view we have from our porch. Each of the four houses in this...what...subdivision...has anywhere from 2-4 acres, with all the yards blending into one giant meadow. So we can each see the others' property pretty easily, and actually see into the others' lives as well. One family, with teenage children, have a pool, and the laughter of kids at play is always a good sound. Another neighbor is very project oriented, and we love to observe the progress he makes on his landscaping. Yet another neighbor and his wife are also retired, and we enjoy their company very much too. They developed this little cove with the four houses, and although we once wondered how picky they would be, we have found them to be wonderful neighbors who are generous, kind, and funny. We enjoyed going to Asheville yesterday with them to see a movie, and we hope we will continue these shared adventures. Finally, we have a lovely lady and her mother who live in the cabin above us, and although we don't see them as often, we know they are there and appreciate how they watch over our place when we are gone. We can see their cabin from our upstairs window, and it is comforting to know that yet another good neighbor is close by. One of the things I enjoy most about Ridgehaven is that it feels rural but not isolated. Six miles out of Waynesville, twenty or so miles from Asheville, but a world away from the hectic life we left behind. Yes, we are blessed with good neighbors. We are still the new kids on the block so to speak, and when we walk in the neighborhood behind us, we still get looks that say, "I wonder who those people are and where they live." Soon, hopefully, we will know those neighbors as well.