The rain drumming on the window, each drum a reminder of the small treasures forgotten, they rays hidden by the fog the rain leaves. Rays, like our first meeting, our dreams, the laughter we shared, the Sunday morning jazz. The rain, drumming on the windows, hiding the treasures forgotten. I will let the drumming awaken me, like Sunday morning jazz will pull me out of oblivience, and find the treasures forgotten.
Sunday was a rainy day, so cozy clothes and a movie at a friend’s house was appropriate. Fall weather can be cozy:-)