My first conscious thought is, I was up too late last night. It was justifiable, based on the quality of conversation, but still... snooze, please.
In the self-same moment, I hear the rain. July rain in Seattle.
Now, I'm the girl who loves nothing as much as sun-filled, late-Spring days and who sees clouds as obstacles between her and her view of Rainier--but, today, when I detect the pitter-patter of rain drops, I smile. It is the most delightful thing.
And now I'm lying half-asleep, half-listening to that rain. I even catch one brief flash and count 1, 2, 3...7 seconds till I hear the coordinating rumble. An honest summer thunder storm? That's a gift in Seattle.
I don't want to get up. I want to stay under my white covers, listening to this rain forever...
But, eventually the alarm does go off again. The day makes it's demands and I must respond. I get up. "Only 20 more 'getting ups' for this job, this routine," I think.
I may be in need of caffeine or be making the thousandth promise to myself to "get a better night's sleep," but today I will carry the rain as a gift.