Three Hundred Twenty

Posted on November 16, 2015 by John Swinburn

The sound of rain on a thin metal roof at four in the morning is unlike any other. I stood on the screened porch for just a few minutes this morning. That wasn’t noise; I’d call it music.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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2 Responses to Three Hundred Twenty

  1. John Swinburn says:
    November 17, 2015 at 6:52 am

    That’s a great way to describe it, “swallowed by this sweet drumming.” That’s it, exactly.

  2. jserolf says:
    November 17, 2015 at 6:45 am

    Half my roof is made of metal, and it is real delight to sit there, beneath and find yourself swallowed by this sweet drumming, John.

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