The trees look like Muppets this morning – their leaves bouncing in disjointed, hyper-animated movements, beckoning and warning me simultaneously. There I see an alligator. Over there, just above the doorway, I see a small crab. Then suddenly the wind ceases and so do they.
I love the rain. Not just because it knocks down all the pollen and allows me to breathe through my nose. I also love how it smells, especially when it hits warm earth. And I love that rush of wind that comes just before the first drop, like a deep inhalation of breath before the sky sings.
But most of all, I love the colors the rain brings – vibrant technicolor hues so intense they seem to drip from the shiny leaves and saturated awnings. The tiny mica flecks glitter in the concrete. The veins that spider through each piece of granite gravel revel in their brief moment of pronounced glory. Walls of brick return to the deep red of the Carolina clay from whence they came.
And when the sun finally returns, everything will be clean and ready for her arrival.
P.S. I Sprocketed. Seems you can bid on some of the Unabomber’s possessions. Because who wouldn’t want those, right? I know, I feel dirty, too. I’m gonna go stand out in that rain for a bit myself.