Last night the rains pummelled the roof. It reminded me of Ireland and the windy rain I often heard at night. Windows were open and the air smelled like autumn leaves. This morning I walked amid the fallen leaves, pulled prematurely from maple and oak by the rain. The light was phenomenal and only my camera can convey just how beautiful it was.
There is a winding set of stairs leading to my hilltop home. In the morning light, it seemed to stretch endlessly toward something it would never quite reach. Sometimes I feel that way when I am writing--as if I can visualize what I'm after but it is so hard to express with the limitation of language. Nevertheless, every once in a while I convey the nuance of light and seven shades of green so effortlessly displayed in front of me this morning.
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