Photo Story: A Hundred Different Kinds of Rain
Lost rain wandering parking lots and highways in search of the earth. Down-on-its-luck rain watering plastic petunias on a twentieth-floor balcony. Angry rain condemned to storm sewers, denied rivers. Rebellious rain. Tried to rally ducks and frogs to rise up when their marsh was bulldozed for bungalows. Didn’t work. Tired rain.
Here, old neighbor rain. Fickle friend rain. Trickling deep to farmers who’ve become dirt, white finger bones point and skulls grumble: “Where were you, prayed-for rain?” Regretful rain, that corn withered, cattle and children went thirsty. Sorrowful, as if a downpour would help now.
Dying rain, mossy and misty-eyed.
Photographer: Natee P
The covered sky dims the light. Through new lenses, the world becomes two. The bright foliage takes on grey hues.
“Strange weather,” I thought. But the breeze is so nice as it carries with it the weight of my clothes. The gust reaches the trees playfully hitting each leaf. The wind becomes violent, unlike the childish breeze. Those who have no strength dance with its pace.
Down came the rain
Covering everything in a shiny mold. When it reaches my shoulder, it whispers secrets in my ears. At last the clouds disappear-droplets soaked, and puddles formed
“Strange Weather” I say
This is so, so beautiful.