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  • The old familiar finger snap as the rain thumps down my glass skylight. The old sweet black coffee sounds of Miss Peggy Lee, as the rains pour down the East Coast, as that unprecedented left hook makes dents in the shorelines, never again, never once more will you see that same shore, again.

    What is there to do as the leaves fall, the trees snap, the sidewalk is a slippery slope, than put on some incomparable sounds of the "Fever" of Miss Upsweep...?

    As the winds blow lights and the power lines sway to the shadow dance and we are in the hands of the greater affairs, Miss Peggy Lee and her finger snaps and drum beat, the storm and the dizzle, the dazzle, the sizzle and the bongos suffice. The finger snap accompaniment to the weathervane.



    (Photos by Susan, New York City in the rain)
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