As I write these words, it’s night, and I’m upstairs in a little room tucked under the eaves, listening to the rain drum the roof just above my head. I love the way a summer rain sounds silver, even in the dark. Oh, Summer: sing me to sleep. ❤
notes from a creative life …
As I write these words, it’s night, and I’m upstairs in a little room tucked under the eaves, listening to the rain drum the roof just above my head. I love the way a summer rain sounds silver, even in the dark. Oh, Summer: sing me to sleep. ❤