The rain in the gutter on the other side of the wall from me that is alternately bubbling and then thudding. Odd sounds, indeed.
John is snoring loudly. Rather unusual for him, actually. In a moment I will head into the bedroom and encourage him to roll over by tickling him with cold fingers and toes.
My thumbs cracking. My joints are all funky and poppy because of the rain.
Th gentle whirr of my dutiful junebug and the clack of my fingers on her keys.
What are you hearing?