i love the sound of Rain, soporific, can’t be bothered
aloft in the loft, the gentle pummel against the skylight
the sloping roof conjures something of tents… but theres none of that sound of ecstatic static
rather the staccato of pitter, interspersed with patter
an undertow of rumble and purr,
as tho someone were drumming their fingertips, not with proverbial impatience, but with the sheer pleasure of it, rhythmic, tactile satisfaction.
whilst tidying earlier, amalgamating various piles on the floor, that sort of half hearted clearing out, found an unused ink pen in its wh smith packaging!
the scratch and blot of thought, the simple pleasure of sullying a page, snail trail of ink… everyone scribbles gibberish notes on paper? I etch:
‘Write More. Reveal Less.’
that’ll do… a selfie… then time for a game of chess, as son over
ooh… double hats!! kinda knitted tibetan… pink purple hat sect
tom: Beautifully expressed also what’s your chess.com username
We’ve been old schooling it, lovely to play on a large board, music, herbal tea… substantial concentration and the occasional conversation
Having said that, intending to join online, as son improving massively from there, whilst im stagnating… will let you know when I’m up and running xx
megan: I woke up this morning in a friend’s attic flat to rain pattering on the windows. It made such a lovely sound that I was unable to get up for at least an hour and a half!
Beautiful to be serenaded by the rain, yet not have to be out in it. A cherished languishing xx