“Oh the weather outside is frightful but the fire is so delightful; since we’ve no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

It might not ever snow in Southern California, but it rarely rains either, until it does, which is has, off and on these past two weeks. I love the sound of it, the smell of it, even the gray skies that beckon me to hunker down, bake something delicious, read my books, and tackle the puzzle Santa left for me under the tree.

My dog Wylie, being a wily sort of canine, really hates this weather. It cuts into his quality time outside, our daily walks up and down the hills of our neighborhood. We play catch in the house with his stuffed toys but he still looks at me with his soulful eyes as he stares longingly at the front door. My two cats, the feral not domesticated out of them, do not seem to mind the raindrops at all. They meander in and out of our cat door with their usual disdainful looks, dropping in for their daily repasts. Occasionally they curl up on the fleece blanket by the fireplace heater, always ready to high-tail out of here if a loud noise interrupts their reveries.

My herb garden on the patio just outside the back door is leaping for joy in the daily showers as are my succulents, roses, and all things potted. I know there is work ahead of me to clean up after the winter storms but I do not care. Have you ever seen such brilliant shades of green? This morning, a frog has been loudly croaking out a message just outside my window. I like to think he is grateful too for these raindrops of respite that force us to slow down and just be.

On the sixth day of the Christmas season, I am content staying home and sinking into the holy leisure of this hushed time. I hope you are too.

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