It was an opinionated rain this morning.
As droplets formed into crystalline chips, snapping rhythms against the limbs. And words lingered in the swirl of hushed breath.
Meanwhile, the sky rumbled on…something about the sun’s late arrival.
Halfway home, the clouds shifted into a wintered, weathered grey. I reached my hand forward, in rounded cup – as the heavens opened up. Reminding me of these cherished wonders – “music, laughter, the physics of falling leaves…holding hands, the scent of rain.”
“Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!” – Mary Oliver
Though, some might complain – my darlings, I’ll take the chill of rain on any day.