Random Musings

Morning Rain

When I woke up this morning, it was raining. It had been raining when I went to sleep last night. In this cedar house, the only thing separating its occupants from whatever the sky happens to be depositing, is the roof. No attic, no crawl space over the master bedroom, so the sound of the rain rings pure, genuine, as close to first-hand as you can get without getting wet from it.

It's exquisite for lying in the bed and being lulled to sleep by it or being gently nudged awake.

I love the rain. It's cleansing. As I don't like to be wet from it, I tend to stay put when it's pouring outside. Nothing better than having something interesting to read in front of me and a hot cup of coffee by my side.

I most appreciate the rain when I have time for it, like I do this week: I'm off from work and have no place to go. With it still raining as it is, I have reason to stay in and be productive around here. I am forced to face the things I've been putting off. That's not to say that I'm going to do them, but at least I can see them looking at me and make the choice.

Or I can sit down and let the rhythmic drumming on the roof above my office flow through my fingers, and I can write about it. I can write about whatever I haven't written about in ages.

I am reminded of the young girl I saw in the airport in Dallas last weekend while waiting at the gate for our flight. She has been on my mind ever since I watched her struggling with that baby carrier.

I think I sense a story there....