Beware of Darkness

Hiking up the hill to the Shasta view tonight, George Harrison came on the music player. I climbed in time to a dead man admonishing me to beware of darkness. Seemed fated somehow.

"Watch out now, take care
Beware of falling swingers
Dropping all around you
The pain that often mingles
In your fingertips
Beware of darkness

Watch out now, take care
Beware of the thoughts that linger
Winding up inside your head
The hopelessness around you
In the dead of night

Beware of sadness
It can hit you
It can hurt you
Make you sore and what is more
That is not what you are here for..."

That is not what we are here for, indeed. The air was rising as I hiked, a storm blowing in the distance that had not quite arrived. A slice of Shasta was still visible though the gathering dark, white and remote. Sometimes she's the palest shade of cerullian blue, sometimes gold, sometimes rosy. Tonight she was veiled and opaque, peeking out from the massing clouds

Within an hour - sweet rain. There was no snow season this year, no mud. Ice gave way to dust as we waited for the healing rain to slake the thirsty earth. Is this a harbinger at last of a wet spring? Will it be enough? I guess it has to be, for who can command more? Not I, surely. I'm still trying to learn how to command myself.