I stood on the front porch this morning, admiring the rain, and a squabble broke out at the end of the house. I came in for my camera and on the way back, I snapped off Toby, in one of his "leans." I caught him off guard, he despises being photogenic.
Back to the porch, where two house finches sheltered from the rain. The initial squabble had been a third bird, trying for a bit of gutter out of the rain. Unsuccessfully.
Back in the house, Toby won't acknowledge me, perhaps thinking "Get a life."
He is a feral foundling, and unlike any cat I've had, even barn cats turned house cat.
It was raining just as hard out back, and far more interestingly.
Shiny.
Shiny with splatters.
Done.
Drops.
More drops.
Only the rain is out to dry, today.
No little girls visited my new glider this summer. One thing and another.
Toby is interested in what happens in the house, and out, and he stays on his side of the raindrops.
Rainy Sunday afternoon.