Summer Rain

Beautiful rain! The sky burst open unexpectedly this afternoon, sheets of rain falling from layers of white clouds, cascading down walls, forming swirling muddy rivulets and short-lived bubbles on tar and concrete. It fell noisily for a quarter of an hour, then slowing to a swish, and finally all that remained was a distant, indiscernible gurgle of rainwater through pipes. The tantalising, cold rain washed away months of summer dust from the scraggly bushes on the hill and turned the exposed rock a damp brownish-purple. The lone hibiscus on top of the bush by the wall, protected by its height from human assault, blushed and bowed as the rain caressed and pricked it. The wind, bearing the fresh fragrance of spores newly released from the earth, tore yellow leaves and dried-up flowers away from the plants, and they now lie strewn on the road, to be scrunched up under careless human feet and release their own overpowering scents. A cigarette stub and a blue ribbon of cloth lie among the other debris of the summer rain. For once, people have forgotten their indifference to the rain and actually come out to enjoy it; the sun has bothered us enough, let the rain take over.

The sky is now clear, the new blue is turning amber, and the sun is lazily nestling among golden folds of cloud, ready to retire to bed. The rain is a distant memory, lingering only in the nip of the water-kissed wind stirring ever so softly, and in the damp patches on the road. What will tomorrow bring?