There is something perfectly lovely about sitting where one can hear the patter of rain on a tin porch awning, the friendly rumbling of thunder over the house and the shiver of raindrops amongst the breezes in the leaves, where one can see the silver shimmer of the curtains of rain as a veil drawn between the brightly dark moss on the ash trees up close and the massive forest green of the wet maple further off, where one can smell the perfume of a world being cleaned and feel the fresh breath of water-cooled air all the while breathing deeply and just enjoying the fact that one is blessed enough to just be sitting and experiencing all these things.

Perfectly lovely, indeed.  Thank You, God.