Unintended

This past week, month even, has brought unusual April rains.  Low cloud cover, fog, and a curtain of showers.  I haven't heard lightening or thunderstorms.  Yet.

From my little studio on the side of a mountain, my view is of scalloped mountains, a cell tower and some other unnamed tall structures atop the mountain.  When I first moved here in 2001, there were no lights.  Over the years, some fifteen have been added, including utility lights at residences.  It always seems odd to me that a residence would have a commercial grade light post outside.  No doubt for 'security' in this media told 'insecure world.'  I always feel secure.  Unless of course, the electrical storms associated with April rains light up the sky.  Now, they unnerve me.

Three years ago when just my immediate family visited -  my son, grandson and daughter, we had one of those storms.  I had been telling them we might get one during their visit. Then the electricity shot against the black sky.  This went on for hours. Even my daughter thought 'this was it.'  The end as we both pondered, half joking.  Still, she insisted we move a bed and emergency equipment into the closet.  The National Weather Service radio blared all night long.  There were warnings of imminent tornados. My son was at the ready with his son in case the storms worsened.

"Take cover, take cover," the monotonic voice called.

I think we fell asleep close to 4 a.m. that night.  My son and grandson never moved into our secure area.  In time, the storm abated.

This past week, the same time of year we have gotten those electrical storms, we have gotten more than our share of rain.  I don't recall the mountains ever greening up that fast. Being a part of this, living its history is more pleasurable than I can describe.  The hummingbirds are back, the birdsong in each morning is delightful.  I wonder why I even leave my little parcel of paradise.  I always can't wait to return.

Yesterday morning, I closed my eyes on my sectional sofa. I wanted to take in this miracle. Just be.  Two hours later I awakened.  An Unintended nap. My body knew what my mind refused to hear.  I was tired.  There is nothing like an unintended nap.  Lest of course you are narcoleptic.  I had a friend who had that.  Once at a dinner at my home, he fell fast asleep.

"He is narcoleptic," his wife said.

Now that is just plain scary.  Especially for a lawyer.  Imagine falling asleep in the courtroom.  Or driving.  But mine was a safe nap.  On the sectional, wrapped in my lovely white embossed quilt.  Purely unintended.