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Winter Sunday

The beauty of rain, and time. And a time of beauty.

Photo by Tivadar Balázs on Unsplash

It’s Sunday afternoon, 4:21 p.m. to be exact, and the rain is falling down. It clicks, taps, patters, and plashes as it hits window sills, the concrete driveway, ivy leaves, the narrow tops of the redwood fence. I can hear it sluicing down the gutters, splashing window panes, and gargling in the drain pipe at the house’s corner. Black rubber tires make…




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Christiana White

Christiana White

Writer | Reader | Mother | Cook | Support my writing here ➜

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