Clouds are Beautiful Musing

Rain, rain ... go ahead and stay here

It's thundering (again) outside right now -- the second time today, from what I've observed, unless showers were also unleashed before I woke up. It's possible.

It's beautiful. Thunder is like music, like a symphony composed in the moment, played for everyone, appreciated by few ... the rolling waves of thunder combine with the lighter cacophony of rain beating on the roof, slapping the pavement, tinkling on the windows ... the sloshing, wave sound of cars driving through pools and rivers of water ... it's all music. It's all beautiful. Green things are greener. The air smells cleaner. Things look refreshed, renewed, washed of the day's grit and grime. Lightining flashes, briefly illuminating the things around you. It dances, arcs, stretches across the sky, down to the ground. The outlines of the clouds are visible when lightning flashes. Entire banks of clouds light up -- first one over there, then on the other side of the sky ... then somewhere else. It's beautiful. I love rain. I love thunderstorms.

Hollyberry

I spent most of last night on the phone with Holly, sharing, crying, commisserating, listening, ranting, laughing and pondering. Holly is one of those friends who, though she's on the other side of the country, hundreds and hundreds of miles away ... when we talk, she's sitting in my living room, having tea with me, or flopped across the bed while we gab and giggle and gripe. It's always just good to talk to her, to hear her, to encourage her and to be encouraged by her.

Weddings

They're hee-eere ... the weddings have arrived. Next weekend, Kristie Jensen becomes Kristie Worden. Three weeks later, Matt becomes Matt and Molly. They're really, truly, finally here. But my dresses aren't. Neither one. Should I be nervous?

Frustration

Mostly with myself. I think that's all I'm willing to share right now. A lot of frustration.