Morning with Rainstorm

Time has stopped.  It is dead still, inside and out, but there is an energy about the stillness that feels something like a well deserved exhale.  That sounds a bit Jr. High poetic to me, but it fits. I absolutely love mornings where the sky opens and crashes in.  The sun is slower to come out and the world goes still.  Even when I used to be a TV addict, on these mornings I would let the sounds of the storm win out over the buzz and chatter of the television.  Right now I can't even abide the overhead lights.  Feels like disregarding the gift of the storm.  This is the perfect morning for a book, a cat (or two), and some tea.  I will give myself ten more minutes of this bliss  before I go tame the hair and put on my responsible adult shoes.