That's what greeted me last night on the freeway - sheets of rain.
In between the splatters of raindrops on the windshield my eyes kept mistaking the long pearl necklace lines of white headlights and red brake lights for the Christmas lights hanging from distant houses. The hills that provide a backdrop here have neighborhoods of houses on them like the Italian Riviera. So at night when the hills are invisible in the blackness it looks like house lights are floating in the sky above the city like UFOs. Thus headlights and Christmas lights blur together in my peripheral vision - even more so with sheets of rain smearing a curved pane of glass in front of me.
This morning while at work I stood in front of a latticed window built in the early 20th century. I was observing the aftermath of the storm outside. No rain anymore, but everything was still shiny wet. A pine tree stood just outside the window, and little beads of water hung motionless on the pine needles like tiny crystalline Christmas ornaments. It reminded me of the picture below. Weather like this makes me want to hunker down somewhere warm and just write and write until the day is far spent.