The Rain and the Sun

Rain. For several weeks now its been raining. I wake up in the morning wanting not to get up but the fullness of my bladder gets me rushing to the bathroom and I can't go back to sleep again. The water's cold. My shoes get wet sloshing around in the mud outside the house. The scary black waters of Colon street.

rain

Rain just ain't what it used to be for me anymore. Rain used to remind me of wet crystals falling down from the sky. Splashing around wet mud used to make me feel like I can handle everything. We even sprayed hoses on each other to make sure we were wet. We didn't mind the wet noses or the chills after wards. Mom didn't even scold (though she made sure we were super dry after baths.)

Something hasn't changed though, watching the rain from our window and looking at the plants in the garden. It feels like watching a passionate embrace. The love of the plants for the rain, the unconditional gift of the sky to the ground. It feels like watching a smooth ballet... There is just something precious there that you cannot grasp.

The sun is something different though. It was prickly. It was sticky. It was dusty. The world was a little noisy when it was hot. Tempers rose and people wanted to get out of the brightness and look around for shade.

El Salvador Beach, Danao

The sun was hot and dry for me though it meant I could go out and play. Sun meant beaches when I was young. Swimming was the best activity I could find and it I loved it when I floated and just stared at the clear blue sky with an occasional cloud here and there. The sun's beauty was not evident in the sun itself (no offense to the astronomists) but on where its light touches. Watch it from where its light shines through stained glass windows. The colors dance and even the dust follow. Hehehe

I am just simply amazed at how all these things are. It repeats itself and yet I haven't grown tired. I just hope that others too, will appreciate their beauty and just pause.