Last night I kept waking up to the sound of the wind whistling through our townhome complex's little alleys and driveways and the bare trees whipping in the wind. The rain kept blowing into our windows, slapping the glass with the sound of many little raindrops hitting with full force. The streets filled up with puddles and I could see the dark clouds stacked up against the medical school campus high on the hill to the southwest.
There's something about the rare stormy night, when you wake to the world all a bluster in the dark. It's nature's private moment to cover us in water and wind. Play time when the world is asleep and warm. How strange then to wake to a morning covered in damp sidewalks, but the trees standing silent, the wind died down, and the raindrops all gone from the window pane. Storms in the night seem like dreams - they exist in some small space, evidence gone by morning.
I'm tucked away inside today away from whatever weather has descended upon us. Though not nearly as blustery and stormy as last night, it's damp out and the wind has picked up a bit as the day is sliding by. I plan to clean the apartment, watch some movies (it's Oscar contender time, also known as the time I watch all the moves at once), and spend snuggly time with the cat. Ben's off studying for an exam at the end of the week and we enjoyed a date night last night of Portuguese food and cocktails. Time for quiet weekend time when I have no obligations to go out or see anyone, no visitors, no move to take care of, no new job to hunt for... just me.