I love to write in the rain. Coffee. Ink.
I type and transcribe anytime but I like to compose text in the rain.
I'm from a dry place. The children's rhyme "rain rain go away..." - well, we don't teach the kids that where I'm from.
It might stop raining in June and not rain again until September. I've seen it. I've seen the prairie afire horizon to horizon from dry lightening.
I like the rain. I like my meadows. I like my woods. It's wet here and I like that fine.
The raindrops are fat ink splatters on my windows.
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