Hoi hoi Chère E.,
Being Dutch, I love the rain when it pours into the North Sea. I admit you’ve won me over.
Your lovely write softens my heart and the more than lovely artwork does the rest.
Please, keep them coming!
Kind regards, Gus

Sir, as Autumn sheds its leaves, metallic golds an’ brass will live their last before collection, storage in bins, bags or covered heaps. Here an’ there working their best in the dark but – preparing to light another season’s spirit and – soul-like soil! 🙂

I used to love to play out in the rain when I was a child. I must still be, because I still love rain and will walk very slowly through it when I go to my car from my house or vice-versa.
Is it God crying? I doubt it…He is probably dousing us with it to cleanse our hearts and souls.
Nice write, em.
j.

Brought me memories of the sound of rain on a tin roof at our old house, and the smell of petrichor. A wonderful write! “)

Many, many thank yous, M.E! Enjoy your happiness.

Very pretty, romantic words. Thanks, Emma.

Don’t look at the past as ‘wasted’. Brought to your island shore and very far more look back at it as beautiful. Bravo!

It feels that the plant is not being consulted when decisions about it are made.

Much like little children taken away from their big trees (parents) and transplanted which makes them
really scared, like maybe they won’t ever see family again.
Little plants among giant trees…and they feel so intimidated and lost.
j.