I write about the character of a reluctant rain and show you how I style a midi skirt with magenta blooms.

Have you ever noticed the sound of a reluctant rain? There is the kind of rain that creeps. A rain that pours. Then, there is rain that runs. The reluctant rain is anticlimactic in contrast to the atmosphere that precedes its arrival. The dark grey clouds gather, thunder picks up in intensity, lightning psychologically threatens that this may just be the hardest pour to ever soak Mother earth to her core.

The anticipation soars. Some hide under the covers to mentally cloak from the impact…

But from what? Although the lightning makes the eyelids quiver, the reluctant rain splatters like hesitant steps, shuffling this way and that, never quite settling into the rhythm of a persistent pour. Awkwardly heavier than drizzles of rain that make up a gentle tropical shower, this particular rain is often scattered or disjointed in its fall, trailing off jerkily into a sudden halt.

The reluctant rain amuses me as it is somehow comforting in its expression of uncertainty.

Hello fellow bloggers and readers, how are you? What is happening where you are?


The outfit I wore comprised of hand-me-downs. The top and skirt belonged to Moms. I love the pop of magenta pink blooms all over the black background and how the off-white top has small scalloped edge around the neck and hemline. The shoes, well, you’ve seen that before. It’s a basic grey pair my feet seem to slip easily into on days my toenails are rubbish.

What do you think of this outfit? Do you ponder about rain sounds? What other sounds get you to pause for a bit of thought? Share away, I relish reading your lines and will reply!

As always, a quote to end the post, this time by James Allen:

"The law of harvest is to reap more than you sow. Sow an act, and you reap a habit. Sow a habit and you reap a character. Sow a character and you reap a destiny."

A FuzzyMouldy Lenscape