creative writing · Mental health feelings

Sometimes it rains

The whole world darkens as the clouds roll in. A sea of steel grey foam consuming a summer afternoon. The oppressive weight of them bears down upon us as a crackle of lightning sends static electricity flitting through the air. What was a gentle breeze just moments ago kicks up into a swirling beast, rudely shoving away anything in it’s path; making a shower of fresh green leaves and dirty city trash alike. All of a sudden the world stops, each creature seeming to hold it’s breath in anticipation of Mother Nature’s main event today. It starts with a single fat drop. It lands on a window and is watched as it makes a lazy path down to the ground. The wind kicks back up into a roar as all at once the heavens open and a single sheet of water is violently chucked from the depths. Rolling thunder and snaps of lightning join back into the deafening crescendo. It’s as if the gods themselves were making music too beautiful and complex for mere mortals to understand that the sky had to weep for us. The tangy smell of ozone is in the air as animals run for shelter while dry and thirsty plants rejoice and reach out for nourishment. The show goes on long into the night, drenching everything in it’s path. We wake up to a dry bright morning, the last of the rain chased away by dawn’s first rays of light. Look up at the crystal clear sky and take a deep breath for the world has been scrubbed clean, refreshed, renewed and made ready for a new beginning.

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