In the morning it is the gentle tapping of the rain against my window that awakens me.
It feels like an old friend. A friend that has been with me through the many days of my life.
Days of summer games on big wide porches. Where the arguments over rules and cheating now fade into a misty background.
Memories of books read, curled up with an old quilt and a cup of cocoa while the rain hums a steady beat in the background.
I can almost smell the chicken frying as Mama battles the heat and humidity, and I long to wander downstairs one more time to set the table for a big family meal. To peek into the living room where Daddy sits in that old familiar chair reading his paper.
My family has long since scattered to distant places. Old friends that shared rainy days on the porch have disappeared from my life. Daddy has been gone many years and Mama is enjoying rainy days where someone else prepares her meals.
But as I listen to that old familiar patter on my window panes, it all comes back to me and I smile, knowing that the rain nourishes not only our gardens, but our souls as well.
Sharing today with:
Pink Saturday at How Sweet The Sound
Be Inspired at Common Ground