Tonight the rain has moved in from California. A most welcome sound that always makes me think of my old bedroom at home in Pennsylvania. The view through the maple tree there on the second floor was half a block long and I could watch the workers in the iron yard down the street. But it was the tree I loved. I could watch the rain drip off the leaves or stare at the icy barren branches in winter after a freezing rain. In winter the best thing was pulling back the curtain to discover a new white world in the morning before the snow plow came along. In summer the window screen allowed me to smell the rain and leaves. The beautiful autumn foliage of that tree was red and gold, colors you never forget. Playing in the fallen mess was so much fun. Each spring the brilliant green seeds appeared. You could spread them apart and stick them on your nose and run around like an alien. I've always thought those watery, atmospheric and colorful memories are the reason I love watercolor paintings.
Well tonight I can hear the rain falling on the atrium patio floor through the doggie door we had to insert for our guest this weekend. When HP and Jen's Yorkies had puppies last year, one in the litter of five was a giant. Luke named him "Bruce". At first Ellen wanted him but she took Ferdinand and Mimsie. I fell in love with him at the beginning but Larry wanted a bigger dog. Bruce has grown on Larry and in fact I heard him tell Jen he missed the kids and Bruce when we moved back home after their trip. Here's the problem...that Bauer family loves him too. So I'm not sure how it will turn out. Maybe he'll just have two homes! Lucky dog!
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