"I remember to this day
The bright red Georgia clay
How it stuck to the tires
After the summer rain."
I slept well, and woke to my alarm at 6:20 to find a gentle rain falling over the village. It's nice and cool in my bedroom now, where a week ago it was very humid. I pulled on a polo shirt to keep the breeze off my shoulders. I made a cup of coffee, and went looking for pants. (Priorities, I has 'em.)
Three hours later, the rain has stopped, and so has the noisy woodpecker in my neighbour's garden. The sun is shining, and there are voluptuous clouds over Torbay, like Magritte used to paint. I'd say the wind is coming from the West.
Georgia must have a similar geology to where I live. The earth around here is very red - the Devonian layer, if you're into geology. And now I'm thinking of another song:
Three hours later, the rain has stopped, and so has the noisy woodpecker in my neighbour's garden. The sun is shining, and there are voluptuous clouds over Torbay, like Magritte used to paint. I'd say the wind is coming from the West.
Georgia must have a similar geology to where I live. The earth around here is very red - the Devonian layer, if you're into geology. And now I'm thinking of another song:
"They call Alabama
the Crimson Tide:
call me Deacon Blues"
1 comment:
*happy sigh*
And now you'll have me humming--which isn't an all bad thing...it interrupts the obsessive thinking I was beginning to do.
(my thanks, sir!)
Beautiful memories accompany the music.....
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