I could barely see tonight. It reminds me of that salt lady, “when it rains it pours”. Well, usually it just rains. But today it poured. I felt like I was trudging through the downpour, and I could even feel my calves hurting. But in reality, my car tires were doing all the work.
Today when I got up, I decided it was going to be a great day for my rain-boots. But typical me, I changed my mind. For some reason, this monsoon weather was just too much for my cute, puddle-happy wellies. Sometimes I don’t understand myself. Or maybe I just don’t understand my way of thinking in the early mornings. Early morning thinking is always skewed.
It you sit there and listen to the rain, you can tell what kind of mood it’s in. I think it’s angry right now. It hammers down on my roof as if I discarded it there as an outcast. The wind adds a little something to it. Like a whistle, it blows until it turns into an eerie howl. I can hear its voice straining and getting tired. Slowly, she calms down to a drummer’s beat. I think I could take a small river boat out in the streets right about now, but I’ll wait to see what happens. From my bedroom window, I can see things flowing into the gutters. Debris and cigarette butts litter the streets and float along more rushed than they would prefer.
Finally, she calms to a few sprinkles. It seems like the water rushing off the roof is stronger than the water falling from the sky. Then all of a sudden, silence.
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