Rain on a tin roof

Jinglebob

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By 9 a.m. the morning chores were done and breakfast eaten. A cold steady rain was falling on the metal roof. I stretched out across the bed and pulled up a blanket, it was no longer the bedroom anymore.

I was transported back through the years to my grandmother’s tiny house where I would snuggle under a warm featherbed and listen to the rain drops dance on the corrugated tin roof. Light from an oil lamp in the adjoining room sent shadows flickering through the doorway and across the bedroom wall. From her parlor I could hear the sound of laughter as the grown ups enjoyed each other’s company.

Life was simpler then, a time when the world seemed more civil and I realized that it was not so long ago. Most of my family members and their friends of that era are gone now but the memories remain vividly clear whenever I hear the sound of rain on a tin roof.

My wife interrupted my nostalgic musings when she asked if I was all right, I rarely nap during the day. I invited her to join me and she said only for a few minutes as she snuggled under the cover. It was well past noon when I awoke. I quietly slipped from beneath the blanket and left her asleep there. I knew she could use the rest, and the rain was still falling.
 
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Beautifully, evocatively, written, Jinglebob.

My family had an old farmhouse, tin roof, in northern Virginia, near where Dulles Airport is now, in the fifties and early sixties. I remember that sound. The house was built against a hill, so that the first floor, the basement, was exposed in the front and abutting the hill behind. The front door was on the wraparound porch on the second floor, reached by wide steps up from the front below. On the third floor, where the bedrooms were, the front facing windows looked over the tin roof, which wrapped around the house, covering the second floor porch. And a tin roof above the third floor as well.

I remember my older brother, one night as the teenage babysitter was putting me to bed, appearing outside my window, on that roof, covered in a bedsheet, menacing us as a ghost, and scaring the bejeez out of both of us!

But mostly I remember how cozy it felt, tucked in bed with a stuffed animal or two, with the rain drumming on the tin roof...
 
Ya'll are jerking my sweet memory chain again! Love that sound, a sound of comfort, and it brings on good sleep like a warm blanket.

Have a blessed day,

Leon
 
Nice story...I don't know if its part of getting older but many times before I drift off to sleep I will remember back to times that were peaceful that had pleasant memories and often drift off before too long.
 
I sleep in the loft of a house that has a tin roof. Some sounds like rain are pleasant. But some are annoying. We have huge ponderosa pine trees right up to the eaves of the house. Squirrels will get in top of the trees and dislodge pinecones and sent them crashing onto the roof. Hind of hard to sleep through. Also huge clumps of snow fall off the trees and land with a thud. When it warms up enough the snow that has accumulated on the roof, usually a foot to eighteen inches, starts to slide off. Sounds like a glacier calving. This usually occurs during my midday nap. That noise will launch me right out of my lazy boy.
 
Metal roofs are coming back into vogue.

I'm glad to see them again. They are the standing seam type. If I still have a house and I can afford it, I'd like to get one someday. I don't know what it is but metal roofs would greatly reduce our dependence on sleeping aids. I was in a cool bird aviary that at times during the day the light would dim, there would be distant thunder noises and sprinklers would drop 'rain' through the trees. When this happened all the birds would 'roost' while the rain was going on. I think that we are a LOT like that. It's been built into our make up.:)
 
Been staying at a semi local campground since August. Probably stay till the end of the month. Living in a fiberglass motorhome so the rain is very similar to a tin roof. The down side is that our campsite has numerous oak trees and they are loaded with acorns. You’d think they would have all fallen by now, but just when I get really relaxed the squirrels will fling another batch. We like this campsite because it is next to friends who are full time campers, and it’s roomier than most. We forget about the acorn issues when we park here, but by mid- late September we are loudly reminded.
 

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