There's something about rain.
It's like every drop of rain is a member of a very large orchestra; each with one note to play. Despite the temporal irregularity between each drop/note, the music created by this orchestra has a strangely regular rhythm; a sort of order in chaos. With a larger orchestra comes a cresendo, some particularly salient members bringing short solos. Some form sections of the orchestra, adding harmony to the main line, gurgling down the drain, creating texture in the music by hitting different surfaces.. tin sheds, paved floors, swimming pools to name a few.
Then, out of this inherent irregularity, a soothing song i never seem to get sick of. One that brings comfort, reminds me of a rich hot chocolate, induces cravings for a good book, pyjamas, thick socks and a sofa.
Suddenly, the song is receding, the tempo of the song decreasing, a movement in largo. I open the window to hear the last notes of the song and I'm greeted with a soft chill. How a chill can be soft is beyond me, but there is a gentleness in the breeze that makes me stand in its embrace despite the cold. I take a deep breath and exhale. My messy chalkboard of a mind is cleared and my body feels somehow healthier.
The song soon ends and I close my window with a smile, only to find my world crystallised. The disappearing headlights of a car and a stationary street light on an ebony canvas render the prior members of the orchestra elements of an ephemeral crystal artwork; and suddenly, the world is beautiful.
