July 24, 2008 § 5 Comments
The birds said it was going to rain.
And so it is.
Kind of a poetic rain. Falling softly. Not banging on the roof or tipping the garden umbrellas.
Makes you want to curl up on the porch rocking chair and watch it, or take to the living room couch with a book, and doze.
So that’s where we are.
( above: storm on the flatlands of Illinois, snapped on the way home from Chicago)