A Lovely Rainy Day Leads to Writing

I awoke to see the rain had come during the night. It crept quietly over my little place here in the mountains of North Carolina. No thunder or lightening. While I slept, showers slowly covered our area. No one was about today. The man who has been chain sawing the adjoining lot, was wonderfully absent. My new telephone with my voice now answering, did not ring today - not once. How peaceful!
After spending an hour or more listing numbers in my new directory, I turned to my computer - not that robber of time, Email, but to my word processor and I began writing. The title of my memoir finally surfaced this morning and with my theme in mind I can begin the process of collating my years of work into a cohesive account of my life and that of my family.
The hours flew past until I had to stop and feed Rocky and Tiger and myself. What a perfect day I've had.


Rainy day view from our deck

 I hope you have had a good day of writng or reading or whatever you most enjoy.

Sleeping to the Sound of Rain

I sit here tonight with my window open just enough to hear the rain coming in quick showers, taking me back to my youth when windows were open most of the time.
Cool night air drifted in and lifted heavy summer heat, and in the southern winter season, temperatures seldom dropped extremely low.

With the unusually warm weather here in the mountains, and with me being such a hot natured person, I joy in the fresh air and the rain erasing the dry atmosphere inside our house which stays closed and heated by electricity.

Rain's peaceful sound soothes restlessness or calms anxiety in the night. Like nature's lullaby, its tones and rhythms hypnotize and send me off to dreamland.

Sounds bring back memories and I often use sounds in my classes to dredge up forgotten moments of the past.

When I hear the rain coming in waves, growing louder and louder, then fading softly away, I remember the sudden storms that often woke me in the night, summer storms with thunder rumbling in the distance, moving ever closer as I lay in my bed tuned in to the track the rain traveled.

Southwest Georgia can have the most turbulent weather in summer when electrical storms pop up suddenly, and lightning slashes the sky from top to bottom, tearing apart the fabric holding the heavens.

As a child I shivered with fear, covered my head with my pillow and waited for the sounds of the storm to pass. When I heard the thunder softly rumbling far, far away, I breathed a sigh of relief and finally slept.

Tonight I have no fear as rain plunks down on the tin roof of the carport, the asphalt driveway, wrapping the winter-bare trees in sheets of water.

We still need rain to end the drought that's dried up wells and left lakes receding from their bank.

Tomorrow will likely be another foggy, misty day where we can barely make out Brasstown Bald many miles across Lake Chatuge. I don't mind at all. Today was one of those days, and I stayed in my pajamas and worked on my poetry chapbook, hoping to submit it before next week is done. Sometimes " bad" weather is actually quite good for those of us who enjoy writing and reading and huddling inside all day. We get an enforced holiday from the world.

I think I'll turn in and go to sleep listening to that droning sound of delicious rain. Good night.