I find it so relaxing to be inside, listening to the rain on the roof; I love the way the storm ebbs and flows, light rain building to a crescendo, pounding for a minute or two, then easing off; the sky growing ever darker, then lighter, then back again. I am sitting here, a cup of coffee within reach, typing and sipping, watching the rain.
This has been a long, slow autumn; the trees in our yard have clung to summer and are only now at their peak fall colors. Most of the leaves in other yards have already had their day; they have been tidily gathered into paper bags and set out for collection; ours are very late. They are always late, these leaves of ours; most years we don't get them raked until spring because the snow falls about the time they do.
I used to wonder why; now I just accept it.