We had quite a storm last night. I listened to the rain hitting the windows like a snare drum being tapped, tapped, tapped. I stared at the ceiling and could see the reflection of the collected droplets as the headlights from a car flashed across our room.
This morning, it was grey when I left. There was a chill in the air and the rain had turned to a drizzle, slowly soaking you through.
The wind yesterday had beaten and whipped off the the camellias from many of the bushes near school. As I walked in, it was like parading down a carpet of petals. This one blossom remained, perfectly intact and beautiful on the wet ground.