I like an ominous sky. It is heavy and demanding with its message all whilst being a gentle formidable force in its palliative colors of silver, steel, and misty white. Today's sky continues to threaten of Irene. I have never known an Irene, though we are being introduced with every falling raindrop and rat-tat-tat-tat at my window.
As I finished safe-guarding my home from my new acquaintance (rumor has it I ought not to deem her a friend), I walked out on the porch to watch the rain. Watching the rain can sound so cliche, but it is one of our few simple organic distractions from our frenzied daily life, while simultaneously being the stimulus to be present in our daily life. Rain is magical.
As my eyes wandered around the yard, I spotted poor Gnomeo (!!), my trusted yard gnome, lonely and drenched under the now ominous-turned-not-so-friendly-Irene-sky.
(Gnomeo is that little speck you see, sitting dutifully and long-sufferingly under yonder tree. What a trooper.)
I know what I must do.
Mission rescue:
Risk life and limb to save such a happy face.
In the end, "It's ok!" He's ok.
Please tell me you got that.
