Summer Storms.

My brain isn't feeling poetic per se this summer. If it were, I'd find a much better way to write about this (though, I am realizing that most of my writing stems directly from the weather and the seasons in the city...not sure how I feel about that) but I must take a minute to stop and share my love of being at home with nowhere to go when it is about to storm like mad. It is a gloriously cool 70 degrees outside and I opened all of my bay windows and put on a chunky, button up sweater. Our couch is currently situated between the windows and I have a pile of books, my moleskin and some Irish Breakfast tea sitting next to me. This fourth floor walk-up comes in handy in times like this when I can see all the tops of buildings and the sky is dark and big and ominous. Sigh.