The magic of rain...

We drifted off to sleep last night with the sound of rain and thunder. Rain came down in sheets, knocking on my window with a musical tin-tin-tin that drifted in through the walls, and windows on the wings of night. Like a lonely song, the echoes of the pattering raindrops lingered on. It felt good in a thousand ways, while the sounds of Nature quieted my spirit and relaxed my body deeper into the softness and comfort of white, puffy comforters and blankets. The last time we slept in our gypsy caravan we did so under a wild storm that brought down much rain and strong puffs of winds that sent sheets of rain this way, and that other way; rushing madly among the trees, and branches that under their wrath ever waited so meekly for the promises of the new day. It was glorious, and wonderful, being drifted off to sleep by such sounds. Inside the gypsy caravan we read, and browsed through the pages of favorite magazines, and savored mid-night snacks and drank sweet coconut milk. Our bed had the faint smell of rain and the lavender oil I had sprayed on pillows and sheets that afternoon. When we were ready for bed, we said our prayers and went to sleep. The sound of the rain soaking thoughts that sounded just like silence.