Solitude, wild rain … and the writing itch …

Oh wild, wonderful rain during the night and into the morning, billowing in wind-gusted torrents.

For some time it drenched the walkway, forming puddles under the palms and the birch, and soaking the good brown earth below.  Thank goodness I’m alone here.  Sweet solitude, wild rain, and the writing itch.

“This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly”
Thomas Hardy, “The Complete Poems”

© 2015, words and photograph, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved