Jan 26, 2021
12 min read
Winter Sunday
The beauty of rain, and time. And a time of beauty.
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…
