I'm not really not a big fan of rain...clouds...fog.
Yesterday was okay...a perfect drizzly English kind of day. A soft rain day that I could still garden in, take walks in, play with the dogs in. Today...pretty sucky. Especially since I had to drive home from the airport through interstate road construction in the poring rain and fog.

I ended up rereading the beginning of Bleak House (Dickenson) while I soaked in a really hot tub and pouted about it raining. I love Dickenson btw. But it didn't really trigger any great thoughts toward the paranormal or the erotic WIP's I have going...and I really didn't care because I remembered WHY I WRITE.

Strung together to create images, emotions...

I just looked through the window and guess what I saw...

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