Wednesday and Thursday of this week were very unusual days in Denver - it rained steadily for most of Tuesday night, on through Wednesday, Wednesday night, and until early afternoon on Thursday. It was cool, but not cold, and we had almost no wind at all. Living in a semi-arid climate, one learns to long for that type of day, and two in a row is an unimaginable luxury. When I mentioned this remarkable stretch of time to my daughter, who lives in the Pacific Northwest, she almost scoffed at my delight. Seems that that part of the country has been unusually wet this year.

I spent most of Tuesday in a local hospital, so a surgeon could investigate something strange in my abdomen. I had not been experiencing any ill sensations at all, and was getting more and more apprehensive as the day approached. There was a very disconcerting disconnect between my personal sense of good physical health and the doctor's concerns. The day is over, the surgeon has satisfied her curiosity, nothing long term is wrong with me, and the uncertainty is over.

And I'm finding that I feel is a strong sensation of order and "rightness" in the coincidence of two days of truly beautiful weather for my normally dry surroundings, and the pleasure of having a pesky question answered in a reassuring way.