Yesterday, during the deluge, Mr. Hoo climbed onto the roof. The goal was to clean the gutters, as it is every time the skies open wide and the thunder threatens.
I’ve trained myself not to worry and whine when the rain’s coming down and the ladder comes out and he pulls on his slicker. Instead I listen close for the thumps through the ceiling and the thick wet sloggy sounds that mean he’s liberated another pile of rotten leaves from the rain spout and flung them to the ground.
From each thud I extrapolate volume; with each thud I pray it's not sizeable enough to be him.
By late this afternoon those thudding piles of yesterday had burst out into a sudden chorus of forest on the path behind our house -- each seedling stretching for the sun, longing to be a tree.
5 comments:
Oh, how lovely! All those tiny tender things a gift from the rain, and you right there to appreciate them.
I also meant to say that I love how Mr. Hoo is always on the hunt for things to tend to. Kind of reminds me of the father in "A Christmas Story." I like those men.
when he finished with our roof he used to do the neighbor's (with her permission). it worried her enough that she just had covered gutters installed.
"longing to be a tree"..awesome, one of my favorite posts
Your amazing photos always remind me of how a good photographer always finds beauty even in the most routine things. I love this post!
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