Rain

Have you heard the pitter-patter of rain lately? Have you marveled at nature’s wonder? Ever since I was young, rain has always held a fascination for me. Where did all these water come from? Is heaven crying for someone in passing? Is heaven weeping for us? As I grow older, and geography dispelled the young notions, rain is still a wonder even now.

It’s the calming effect of the constant pitter-patter that I find alluring. I enjoy looking out the balcony imagining the rain washing the city clean. Yes, it is raining now, quite heavy in fact, but here, sitting in my air conditioned room, almost about to be lulled to sleep, I just couldn’t help but jot down some thoughts. Some may find snuggling in bed right now the best therapy to complement a rainy day, some may even resent the rain, but nature’s gift is still a wonder.

Have you ever been soaked by the rain? Have you ever tried to rush home from somewhere just to beat the rain? I have. Countless times when young. Numerous times cycling home from school, all wet but strangely not afraid of getting ill despite my mum’s eagerness to get me dry and something warm to drink and eat. However, one occasion has been stamped vividly in my mind. I was cycling back from the library with my cousin, and it started to drizzle. We sped home as fast as we could to avoid getting drenched as a drizzle or two could already be felt. Then tragedy struck, our bicycles collided, and I was flung face first onto the tarmac just a few metres away from home. I remember picking myself up, and felt a weird tingling sensation surrounding one of my front teeth. And when I checked myself in the mirror subsequently, lo and behold, I chipped one of my big front tooth. Apart from some other minor scrapes, I emerged relatively unscathed from the incident. I was not yet twelve and had battle scars already. No broken bones at this time yet, although I did break my collar bone in a separate incident. But, that’s another story.

I am watching the varying bright streaks of lightning now, and they do aspire to convey some fearsome wrath, as though an immortal up above is wroth with us and is slamming down light as punishment to the lesser beings below. The mighty thunder, hammering in reply, as if to protest the violation of the earth. Many foolish notions I did have when young, as though there were magical beasts in the sky fighting for sovereignty of the vast space above. There I was as a wee lad, shivering slightly against the chilled air, looking upwards with run away thoughts.

But soon, the sound of the pitter-patter of rain did mellow, gently quietened as if to say, “It is finished……”. Thus, into the house I went, silently closing the door, full of respect for another of nature’s wonder.