09.24.2025 | Ordinary Wednesday

The rains of the past few days have been a welcome sight here in the Carondelet Garden in south Saint Louis.  We should see mostly cloudy skies today with a few more showers developing this afternoon.  Highs are quite lovely in the mid 70s with winds out of the NNE at 5 to 10 MPH.

As gentle rain fell on the Garden these past few days, emotions rose to the surface like steam from sun-warmed soil. Late summer and early autumn rains have always stirred something deep within me—a quiet ache, a sacred remembering. Rain carries a spiritual weight, a timeless symbol of renewal and cleansing.
 
It often feels like a cosmic reset button. Water, the universal purifier, washes away what’s heavy—impurities, weariness, lingering negativity. The heavens open, and grace pours down, offering us a new beginning. Across many spiritual traditions, rain signifies release: of burdens, guilt, and stagnant energy.
 
Picture yourself standing in a soft drizzle, the weight of a hard day dissolving with each drop. This gentle cleansing invites us to surrender what no longer serves, making space for clarity, healing, and growth.
 
After our long drought, we needed this rain more than ever. The recent showers have revived the garden—and this old gardener. The parched soil drinks deeply, and so does my spirit. The rain has been a quiet mercy, a balm for both the land and my heart.
 
Rain down on me.
Rain down on me.
 
That's all the news from here in the Carondelet Garden.