Nothing is better than the sound of raindrops pounding a rhythmic beat on the thin layer of fabric above you during a summer storm as it slowly passes overhead. Counting: 1... 2... 3... from lightening burst to thunderous clap and waiting for the inevitable ground shattering, shaking from reverberation, noise off the canyon walls. Unless...aahhh, that sweet smile of satisfaction as you awaken to cooler temperatures and hear the old dog snoring and at the same moment taking that first slow deep breath of the wondrous aromas of peat, clay, grass, flowers, wet rock all intertwined...life renewed; only to realize that it is still raining ever so softly and you can continue to slumber a little longer.
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." Anonymous |