All night, all day the rain beats down on my roof and hits the window. I'm tired of it, the spout outside my window is tired of it, even the birds are engaging in silent protest. .
I wore pastels yesterday--my own silent protest. I drove past the flower farmers working in the downpour covering their just blooming daffodils in the fields. Bent over in their huge slickers, they looked tired of it too. .
Its been raining since October. My teen says I'm being a downer, that showers bring flowers.
I'll cling to that. And anticipate lilacs.