A Dark, Rainy Morning

We haven’t had much rain this morning, just a smattering, but the sky is dark and a mist is falling. I’m thankful for it. Arkansas is too dry once again.

Rain has a way of bringing back memories of other wet days. 

My parents’ home in Tahlequah is where a lot of rain memories center. The aroma of fresh-perked coffee, Mom and Dad and I sitting at their kitchen table, rain blurring the tall, dark oaks in the back yard, and a feeling of being safe, loved, warm and dry.

Here at my Arkansas home, a hard rain causes water to run down the hill in the little ditch beside the street. When Sara and Nathan were small, we launched many a leafy boat down that stream, trotting along beside it, having boat races, and just generally having fun.

Rain is the perfect accompaniment for reading or for writing. Many of the Darcy and Flora tales or the Ned escapades have flourished under the inspiration of rain dashing against my window. Remember Grave Heritage and the flood of the century?

Rainy days–a perfect time for making memories.