Rain, Tin Roof, and Reading
When I was young, my grandfather’s house had a tin roof. I remember sitting in a chair, laying my head back, listening to the light pecking resonating a hypnotic rhythm while watching water drip off the edge.
I’m very fortunate to have a home in the middle of the woods, quiet, serene, and it has a tin roof. When it rains, I lay on the chaise lounge on my porch listening to the drops hit the roof while reading a good book. That sound pulls me deeper into the story.
Yes, I have been known to fall asleep. That’s okay, the rain on a tin roof also makes for some good dreaming, and I will admit, on more than one occasion, I have abruptly awakened after rolling off the chaise.