The rains coming, you can smell her in the air and hear her in the wind. Soon her song will out-sing the music of the frogs and crickets in the trees. Occasionally lighting strikes, you can hear thunder in the distance.
The night is one of peace. We watched the sun set on the road behind us and the moon rise from the balcony of our guest home.
Brian played a sweet song into the night bringing children out of their rooms to listen; even fish in the pond below poked their heads out of the water. All seemed connected and in harmony.
The wind is the only thing that seems mean tonight, howling and banging cracked doors and windows. She is telling of the storms coming, whispering of the earth’s harshness.
The moon continues to rise, her light is mine.
