Obscured by clouds...
The dark and dreary days.
Misty hazy moments of precipitation.
When it begins with a brightly lit orb that hangs ever so gently upon the cotton candy clouds that settle on the wind. Then as the day sets in, the clouds transform, fade to gray, and the rumble begins. Will it be the faintest of drizzles that tickle like the whiskers of a kitten? Or will it roll in bearing the darkest of pitch skies, the rumble of thunder, accompanied by flashes of deadly electric light displays?
I wish I knew...
I am obscured by clouds and the misty fog that looms.
Perhaps I will set sail a lovely paper boat in a puddle in their wake?
