In the summertime, lying in bed listening to rain, whether it is falling gently or pounding the earth accompanied by the thunder and lightening symphony, I am pleased. The soft rain lulls me to sleep. The loud and energetic storm makes me feel cozy, snuggling down into the covers.
But rain hitting the windows early on a Monday morning in late November is quite different. Ugh. Hit the snooze button and try to return to a soft, warm sleep state. It is a little chilly outside, no lovely sunrise. Just the darkness gradually lighting up to a dull gray. Even the dogs want to stay in bed.
This is perfect weather for the Time between Time. Rain, gray, chill. It is not a crisp winter cold. Just a damp, dull day. There is no sparkling snow, glistening like diamonds in the morning sunshine. Birds are quiet, maybe a lone crow calling somewhere in the near distance.
Awake now, with reviving coffee. Ringo, our canary is singing. The kitchen light throws a little cheerfulness here and there. The dogs steeled themselves, tippy toeing through the rain in the yard.
The day begins.