I awoke far too early this morning, unable to fall back asleep though the sound of rain pattering on our roof often acts as a sleep aid for me. Perhaps the numerous thoughts prancing about inside my head are partly due to waking up too early and feeling sleepy at present, but just the same, I felt the need to make a post. To share some of the thoughts so that they will run off onto this "page" and out of my head. Perhaps then I can take a little nap and truly rest! :-)
The sky is crying today. I know not what for. Its tears have been falling since last night, apparently there is something to cry about. The yard is land of miniature lakes now, every leaf awash and twigs acting as lonely ferries as they slowly move across the face of the each tiny pond. The air looks heavy even from my window, and the heavens sigh as the tears fall fast.
I love a rainy day. I do. Many folks I know hate rainy days. But I have never seen the sense in that. We could go with the old adage (I think it's an actual adage? Or perhaps I just thought of it? I don't know honestly), if we never had rainy, gray days then we'd never fully appreciate the dry and sunny days. But I love the rainy days for themselves. There is something almost magical about a rainy day.
I wouldn't want to have rainy days all the time. After about 4 days to a week of rain, I also grow weary of the gray, dull light and the constant wetness that seems to seep into every corner and sort of absorb you into its cloak. But for a few days, even, I can love it.
The sky is crying. I know not what for. But as I sit here and listen and watch its tears fall, soft and steady from the swollen clouds above, I hope that it knows that someone appreciates its tears. Someone listens, watches, is grateful and understanding. For whatever reason, the sky is crying. And it is a soothing sound.