Watching the movie Amazing Grace this evening while feeling a little under the weather. I must admit, summer in KY is not my favorite season. There's the unbearable humidity, like today. You know it's a humid day when you look across the hills and see this haze that guarantees a hot and humid day. Summer also brings lots of pollen that causes all kinds of reactions inside my body that are not pleasant. Itchy eyes.  Runny nose.  Coughing. So, I'll be quite happy when the allergies subside and cooler weather comes. In the mean time, I'll be stocking up on Claritin and using Flonase when needed.

Oh, and I'm pretty darn thankful for air conditioning. It's my friend these days.

I hear thunder.  I expect the rain is not far behind.  I'll be driving down to the Abbey this morning and so I was reminded about a journal entry that I've written about before from Thomas Merton.  Here it is again for your reading pleasure.

April 15, 1961

Thunderstorm. The first I have sat through in the hermitage. Here you can really watch a storm. White snakes of lightening suddenly stand in the sky and vanish. The valley is clouded with rain as white as milk. All the hills vanish. The thunder cracks and beats. Rain comes flooding down from the roof eaves, and the grass looks twice as green as before.

Not to be known, not to be seen.

It's a little snowy in Lexington today.  We have at least six inches on the ground.  I just shoveled the driveway and definitely got my exercise in for the day.  Check out a few more snowy photos on my Flickr page.

It's rainy and overcast in Kentucky this morning and the temperatures look to be much cooler than they have been. We're even supposed to be in the 60's on Saturday. I LOVE cooler temperatures that fall is known for. I can't wait to cool off a bit and be able to do more hiking in the great outdoors.

I never hike without my camera and in a few more days, I'll own a new Canon PowerShot S5. I received a new one in the mail this past Friday but, it appeared to be sick. It worked great for a while and then it decided to become very uncooperative. After talking to the tech at Canon, we determined my camera was defective and had to be returned. Hopefully, the new S5 will work as it should and be as reliable as my old PowerShot A60 has been. I'm sure you'll be seeing lots more of my photography on this blog soon.

There's nothing I love more than a hike in the woods with my camera. I love being lost in the sheer beauty and silence of the wooded hillsides of Kentucky. I relate to much of what Thomas Merton writes about nature. It always stirs something deep within me. Those hours in the woods I spend hiking are prayerful times for me as I know they were for Fr. Louis. I pray to God sometimes vocally but many times simply by using my camera to capture the beauty that surrounds me.

So, that's it. A weather update from Lexington, KY and a few musings on photography.

It's been raining some in Lexington over the last 24 hours. Besides us being very dry here in Kentucky, I'm happy to see it rain because I simply enjoy a rainy day. It's probably my own illusion but a rainy day seems to slow things down just a bit. Life doesn't seem like such a whirlwind. I long to go and sit on my porch with a cup of coffee in hand and watch it rain. Better than that, I'd love to lose myself in the sound of the rain. Most of the time life is too busy to take advantage of a rainy, stormy day. Life calls. My job calls. Although I may have to be physically present at work, I take time to stare out the window and imagine myself surrounded by the sound of the rain.

Thomas Merton writes about rain quite often in his journals. In one of my favorite Merton books, The Intimate Merton, we find this journal entry.

April 15, 1961

Thunderstorm. The first I have sat through in the hermitage. Here you can really watch a storm. White snakes of lightening suddenly stand in the sky and vanish. The valley is clouded with rain as white as milk. All the hills vanish. The thunder cracks and beats. Rain comes flooding down from the roof eaves, and the grass looks twice as green as before.

Not to be known, not to be seen.