It's been raining here this weekend. The kind of steady drizzle that turns everything to slate gray, like the blankets of mist that form in the valleys between mountains when cool nights follow warm days.
Despite the gentleness of the rainfall, it sounds like there are marbles rattling in the downspouts on the house. One of those downspouts is just outside my bedroom window. The continuous percussion is a terrific sleep inducer.
The misty drizzle is also a great reason to get a fire blazing in the fireplace, pour a glass of wine, and select a book by a favorite author.
In fact, I think I'll do just that.
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