It’s 4:30. I hear the rain outside. I take a deep breath.
The moment is refreshing.
The tin roof, of my small, house in the hood, accentuates the sound of the drops. The wind will gust, from time to time. I don’t have to be outside to see it. The trees, in this area, are majestic and what brought me here, to my home in the hood. I don’t know their names, but I know them, personally; their colors, their barks, their moss. Continue reading Dreams and Deeds
Fish Eye Farm 