A Dark and Rainy Day

Summer keeps promising to shine through, but it seems the clouds have a personal agenda against the sun this year. As if their memory of winter is a yearning, they've refused to relinquish their hold. As if cold has decided to take ownership of the land.

The wintry chores of baking bread and stirring a pot of soup have once again found my kitchen. The summer clothes drawer is sealed shut and coats and woolen socks adorn my shivering body. I hear the wind outside and see the shadows dance across my windows like a ghost trying to slip inside my house.

Petals from flowers that had once hoped for sun fall to the ground and float across the puddles wet and worn. If I had plans to work in the garden today, there would be little I could do, for even the weeds recoil in disgust.

My only consolation is in writing, for with my keyboard and my imagination I can go somewhere warm.