This month I've been taking part in a River of Stones, an international writing project organised by Fiona and Kaspa, that encourages participants to write a small 'stone' every day. I know some of you have joined in too but if you haven't you can read more about it here.
The project may run again in July (it did last year) and I'll join in again. The discipline of stopping and looking around my world, the physical, intellectual and emotional ones, for a few moments and noticing what's there, what's really there, not what I think is there, is always a good one.
Today's writing prompt comes from one of my River posts which is why it doesn't have a title... yet.
Rain overnight and this morning
not a crackle of frost on the trees
or along the kerb around the yard
only a mist of grey above
and between the bare branches.
I miss the hills, the green roll
of them swallowed by cloud.
The day is too soft for clear thought.
Write about the weather, about yourself immersed in weather, or a rant against a particular kind of weather. Or a poem in praise of weather. About rain, or snow, or unexpected weather, or reliable weather. About the emotions the weather stimulates in us. About the memories it ignites.