It always seems to rain here in July. I know there must have been hot days, and bright days, but all my memory can drag up is gray-white skies and a comforting sound of rain-patter. June is the hot month, dry and endless sun burning down. And in August the rains will clear for a few weeks, but then usually pick up again during the fair. Only not as persistent. September is a toss up – I’ve seen rain drenched Septembers, and record high temperatures and even snow as early as, and green as late as, my birthday. The only thing for sure is that the wind picks up towards the end of the month, striping the leaves from the trees. It’s never golden for long.
I love the rain. I wish it would rain more often. To me nothing is more serene then dark thundering clouds and a downpour of water, it brings a calmness that I miss when it isn’t there. There is nothing like going somewhere quiet where I have a view of the clouds to watch the rain fall with a cup of tea and writing materials at hand. The same with snowy day. It’s a pity those days are so rare.
Life has been hectic these last few weeks. I haven’t really had the time to sit and collect my thoughts. And look, here it is almost the end of July – what happened? I’m not sure I could tell you. I feel like I haven’t made any progress at all, and that I’m never going to be free of this work. On the upside I’ve gotten about 2,000 words written this last week.