Rainy Day Musings
On days when the sky weeps, I find myself remembering things I didn't know I had forgotten.
Rain has its own vocabulary. The gentle patter on leaves speaks of patience. The heavy drumming on rooftops declares urgency. The steady flow in gutters whispers of time passing, always passing.
Today's rain brought memories of being eight years old, pressing my face against the school bus window, watching the world become watercolor. Everything blurred and beautiful, edges softened by the sky's tears.
