How each rain drop, traveling downward at a speed to rapid for my eye to track, reflects the improbable sunlight streaming earthward at a speed to great for my mind to fathom.

How the wet rhododendron leaves glimmer and curl like little patent leather shoes.

How the infinite droplets gather on and release from the bright leaves, individuals collecting and collaborating to make shimmering robust bulbs of water that leap and jiggle from leaf to dark wet soil below. Two rhythms in a visual symphony; sky-to-leaf a seemingly unsynchronized, relentless patter, leaf-to-ground a steady liquid drip.

How two chickadees and a junco shelter in the woven branches, under the leaf roof, flitting, preening, wiggling their tail feathers, occasionally wrestling with a twig, for joy? for nest materials? in frustration? I wish I could inquire but I don’t know a word of chickadee.