This poem was inspired by Mark’s blog post on the micro season of light rain showers. https://naturalistweekly.com/2022/10/28/micro-season-light-rain-showers-2022/ I’ve been following his blog for a while and never quite dared to put my two pennies of wisdom out there.
Well, here goes. Light rain showers…
In Scotland, we have smirr. That irritating, penetrating, finest specimen of lightest rain. Just sits there, in the air, waiting for you to soak it all up. Doesn’t seem like much, at first. A few steps into your walk, though, you’ll realize that it has seeped deep into your bones’ core, where it shall take up residency, until next spring at least.
Finest All Hallows’ Eve song Smirr hovers mid air. Siren mist, persistent drift. Soft stealth, pierce the dead!