Crazy weather, weather crazy

I love the rain... it reminds me of being born.. again and again... of the cycle of life, and the ways in which the innocence of children can be a storehouse of learning for us adults. I love summer, because of its warmth, that eternal feeling of being embraced with the kiss of sunrays leaving you just a little pink... and I love the breeze that works its way into my room when im writing... playing a little distracting game with me and the muse... teasing just enough to get some amount of free writing out in a mere five minutes.

I love my freedom. My family. My books. My car. Yes, that too. I love being a girlie girl. And I love being South African. Oh and jelly tots. But for now, I love the rain. Its great for writing. And painting. And baking, believe it or not. My shortbread biscuits just came out superbly today!

This rain has memories for me. It reminds me of coffee shops and colourful umbrellas. It reminds me of yellow butterflies. It reminds me of spontaneiety. It reminds me of me...

all things silvery mist...

Its raining... Sigh... like a million drops of silver, accompanied by cold and a blanket of grey mist. Making my way to work this morning, across the freeway, I was first greeted by the torrential breakers of the ocean, competing malevolently for attention against the gloomy colour of the storm... and drizzle held my hand as we ambled forward. By the time I got to Ridge Road, a ritual dance had been planned for my entertainment... and so between Ridge Rd and the winding mountain, I was able to delight in the frivolity of pitter patter music and be mesmerized by the silky veils of silvery mist now weaving their way ahead and around me, as I drove along... almost as if to lure, entice and contrive all at once in promise of a pleasant sight ahead. Or am I just hopeful :) Well, either way, it sure beats moping around in the weather, when the option to stay under the duvet is not on. Monday. Grey not blue. But pinkish sweetness and all things pretty, nevertheless.