Playing With Photos
Every once in a great while, I get the urge to play around with one of my photos. You know, try something new and different with it. As I was digging through the images, I found one of Albert Cummings that I decided to tweak a bit. This is the result.
I like that it's a bit moody and very contrasty. Insert some incredible insight here or something. It doesn't much matter what, just as long as you have a good story to go with moody and contrasty.
This "eh" moment has been brought to you by Flexeril and the Muscles Spasms. They'll be performing nightly all week, twice on Saturday.
Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining
A loud unexpected thunderclap woke me from my reverie earlier. I thought I'd heard rumblings off in the distance an hour or so before, but I dismissed the sounds as little more than trucks and jets.
The pavement is now wet with fat drops of rain. Coming in from the south, the water is slightly cool and immensely refreshing.
I like the way the warm sidewalks, driveways, lawns, and gardens smell as they are dampened by these odd showers. I don't mind having to walk out to the car and close the windows, or walking upstairs to do the same. I leave a couple windows open. The screen door remains ajar as well. I like the way the aroma of fresh rain wafts in.
I can hear more rumbling again. From somewhere far away, moving closer. I hear it and I love it. It's comforting and welcome, as are the gray skies.
If we get enough rain here, I may go splash about in a puddle, barefoot.