rain, rain, come again
After working at Library Y, where I sub in Children's, I decided to ride my bike to a nearby church for Saturday afternoon Mass. Holy cats! You know you're out of shape when the 2 mile bike ride makes your legs feel jiggly! Then it began again yesterday; a cold and dreary day perfect for a Poe short story. But, alas, it made for a nice day to stay in and watch movies and do some late night reading to the sound of my own band.
As I snuggled under the covers with my latest book (The Golden Compass--which I am LOVING after a rocky start!), I liked to imagine that the pounding rain was swallowing my house whole. There was nothing outside but rain, I imagined. And each minute little spot of rain was unique in its sound against our house. The fat splats that hit the gutters sounded hollow and echoed. The drops that went down on the shingles made their short-lived presence known only in the shallow sound akin to the noise of a pencil eraser tapping on a desk. The rain that splashed onto the deck and eddied in little pools in some spots made a reflecting pool for other, later rain.
It was all mine at 12:30 am. As I paused in my reading and listened I could hear the dog snoring in the next room, and the silence from my roomate, and I knew then that the rain belonged to only me. These are thoughts that came again to me this morning after my first storytime of our last session before summer. My 15-23 month olds were fantastic and I have a good group of participating parents and so it was nice. Though...I am wishing to be back at home in bed to finish my book.