It is raining right now, and the only sound I can hear, when my fingers aren't chinking at the keys, is a very soft kind of drippy-puddle sound. The wind has just blown and thrown a few drops at the kitchen window and made the window frame crack a bit. This house doesn't make too many sounds at night...probably because it is a newer house.
I do not suppose that our cinder block home will crack too much either, but I can imagine how the wind will whip across the plains there and I look forward to it. Bring on the honest wind; wind that does not hide behind the trees and suddenly flip through the yard.
I have taken off the thin lacey curtain from my living room's side-door that has almost all window, and does not ever seem to provide any protection (how many nights I've imagined that this door would be the reason I was dismembered by mothman or a werewolf from "the Howling"). Here is this big black hole in the door that "looks out" on nothing but the storage shed (ohhh, what a goooood idea to put such an expensive door right there, cause you neeeeed to see the shed), and I can see the drips of rain as they fall from the eaves here. The light from the kitchen window is, at times, reflecting off of the drips, so it gives an effect of seeing the rain like little drips of gold coming off of the roof...what a strange thing that is.
You see, here I've come to my spot on the couch with my feet up and no tv on (though I'm planning on working on lesson plans with "Paranormal State" playing in a little window on the right side of my desktop in a moment or so), and all of my little family asleep and it becomes MY time. I belong to this dark and quiet time when I am so wrapped up in the warmth of my living room and big brown sweater and black yoga pants and flimsy nighty (yes...I love flimsy nighties, but I also love big sweaters and pants with it...kind of like the trinity of night apparel for me).
I am SUCH a night person.
If I were the queen of my days, I'd find a teaching job where they don't start until 10am (meaning I don't have to get up until 8:30am) and then I could go until, say 4pm. That'd be awesome. Then waking up early would be a privilege, not mandated...and my nightly alone time wouldn't seem so carved out...
But, I am sitting still here, in the stillness...still waiting and trying to tell myself that the waiting for something to happen isn't hold-your-breath time, but that the pathway to the dream, is all still the dream. I am reminded to live each day one-at-a-time. My absolute FAVORITE song in all of the world is this and I'm sending this to a VERY STRONG WOMAN who needs COURAGE, who NEEDS ALL OF HER FAMILY to lift her up and pray for her, who needs to REMEMBER THAT MOTHER MARY is here for her at EVERY MOMENT - I love you so much it hurts: