Rain brings relief. To a farmer’s crops, to those in third world countries with nothing to drink, to animals for survival, and to me, when I seek a place where I can breathe.

It is the scent that weaves through the air, fresh, clean, earth-like. It is the cool, light breeze that brings that distinct scent along with it.
It is the beautiful blue horizons of the sky turning dark, where clouds loom.

It is when magic happens. Like crystals falling from the sky, a sound that calms your soul. It is the light breeze that dances upon your skin. It is the scent of rain that continues to waft through the air.

It is when people slip and fall, for them to curse their luck, and then to stand back up, stronger than before. It is when you think about life. It is the sipping of tea, warming not only your stomach, but also your soul.

It is when memories of pain and happiness are brought back.

I climb into bed, hiding under my sheets with another book to transport me into another fantasy, to escape this beautiful reality that will soon end when the rain stops going, “plop, plop, plop.”


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