Does that mean April flowers in our futures?
There is something so incredibly cozy about rain. We lived in a farmhouse with a tin roof when I was a little girl, and the percussion of a good storm is still one of the sounds of home to me. It doesn't matter how wild and fearsome the elements may be: I'm safe and warm with slow roasted pork and homemade potato salad, a lap full of cats and this baby's tiny flutterings. Seriously, do people wish for more than this?