Storms

During the excruciating heat this summer in Argelès, I fantasized rain pounding on the roof. It just didn't happen for more than a few minutes a couple of times.

Then we go home to Geneva, and there are major storms. The river in the photos is usually so dry that our dog Sherlock considers it a path where he can run freely on the yellowed, dead grass.

I missed it.

I love bad weather--not all the time--but enough to enjoy being home, a cup of tea, books, computer, sweats.

Even going out and having the wind whip my face makes me feel so alive unlike on a hot day when moving at all sucks my energy like an industrial vacuum cleaner.

Unfortunately, this storm left six dead. That is the down side of bad weather. And when I say bad weather, I am NOT referring to things like Hurricane Michael. I am talking ordinary bad weather, heavy rain, cold, snow.

Here in Geneva it is a beautiful day. Blue sky. Temperatures require a sweater or light jacket. The leaves are beginning to turn.

Hopefully in the winter, out patio and garden will have snow. Sherlock thinks of it as white sand and digs and digs. Maybe we can make a snowman or another snow rabbit as we did last time. And hopefully when the snow stops, we have the same beautiful blue sky we have today.