The rain fell during the night as I slept, yet I feel all of its consequences as I look out upon the world today.
I am wearing a sweater, its collar pulled high up against the scruff of my neck, doing its very best to protect the lobes of my ears from the brisk chill. It whispers and then hums. A sound similar to a melody yet impossible to replicate by any musical instrument. It is the sound of world breathing. Refreshed.
It is as if the world had cried and as the final tears left, it felt better, resolved and consoled with whatever had disturbed it in the first place.
Now I sit on the edge of a lawn covered in tears, shimmering in the morning light. The sky above me in motion, clouds on a scale to hard to comprehend alive, drifting across a sky that seems to have been wiped perfectly clear and is now the utter essence of word, “blue”.
How strange to think that this beauty that I now see came to form from an idea of sadness. If rain truly is the world crying what caused it? Or perhaps what is it longing, since all sadness stems from a sense of loss and a wish to return to something better. I laugh to myself thinking the answer is quite simple;
That it is nature. Requiring no explanation to express itself. An ever changing source of raw emotion.
Even now it has begun to change, the sky grey with melancholy. Tears fall as wind breathes a new chill through the stitching of my sweater. Yet again, perhaps I am wrong to convey the weather by a singular emotion.
Hiding now beneath a slender roof, the floor wet beneath me, a new sound joins in with the rhythmic patting of the rain. It is laughter. The sound of a happiness singularly found from running in the rain, seeking cover, but also enjoying the experience of being kissed by the tears of the earth.
Honestly, I am hopeless to try and comprehend the feelings of a raining day. However, that won’t stop me from standing exposed in a downpour, looking up at a sky full of emotion, and sticking out my tongue to taste it.