Although it is 12:30 in the morning, and I should be asleep, recovering from the day just past, I have stayed up long enough for the gentle rain to patter on the roof of my cottage while its drops drenches the dry dirt around my window, enticing the fragrance to dance its way to my senses. This accompanied by the many birds trying to flock to a dry wonderland and making an absolutely horrible screech while doing so, has therefore ruined the previous pleasure of the outback I just mentioned. Birds. The Steven Moffat of rainy peace.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Mar 2014 13:43:06 +0000