The angels are weeping
That's all that echoes in my head as the pitter patter of rain lashes against the glass pane windows of my room.
The sweet smell of rain, the wind carries the scent of freshly watered earth, rich and earthly, carrying the smell of damp camwood and l**t expanse. The animals all hide from the strokes of the rain. Although, a blessing it can quickly become a curse.
I feel the urge to run into the rain, run barefoot, run like the wind, chase freedom, run into the woods and bask in Mother Nature beauty.
With a content sigh I burrow into the cozy blanket and go back to my novel.
The hero in the book is a knight who has fought his way to his bride, determined to save her from his enemies he is prepared to sacrifice his life for his betrothed. The scene plays out to b
