The rain, continuous for several days now, would surely flood us out were we not holding firmly to an upper elevation plot of land. I bolted once again yesterday afternoon despite Wind's gleeful promise to drive Brother Rain down my otherwise tightly-drawn jacket collar and firmly-laced boots. It was a wash, but I had to get out.
What distant hills showed through the pummeling downpours and less ferocious but still entwining and scurrying mists were set off in vague relief, their black-green against an all-enveloping gray. Houses of every description, foundations grasping tenaciously to inclines perceived less menacing in times of sunshine and fair winds, shuddered in the bluster of long-delayed, pent up winter fury.
The weather has eased somewhat, and the hillside homes shake themselves off, awaiting the next round ...