One moment it's raining, so soft and light; and the next thing I know, the sunshine is trying to burn through.
I sit on my porch where the wren is perched on the wrought iron rail, singing his heart out to me.
The hummingbird's flitting nearby, filling himself to the brim with sweet nectar my garden provides.
Rain or shine, it's a beautiful morning.
And this is a good place to be.
--Rose Moore, Saturday morning