It would have been romantic had the moment been shared with someone else. As it was it was with my butch builder room-mate. But there at midnight, leaning out of the window and watching the rain descend on the street below under the shimmering glow of the streetlamps, it was still beautiful.
Earlier in the evening the members of the community had had a meal together, prayed together and deliberately taken the time to relax in one another's company. We spoke about individual member's strengths and laughed at our foolishness. It was an evening of restoration.
My room-mate shared later how he had buzzed with pride and joy as he realised he was sharing his life with many, different wonderful people. We rang a friend we hadn't seen for a while and we chatted with him. And I apologised to my friend for my recent moodiness. We spoke of love and of friends whom we love. And I retired late that night to sleep deeply, with the window slightly ajar, the cool breeze on my face, the sound of rain pattering outside.
