(In which nature reminds of me of things I can’t escape from.)
After months of being nearly-baked under the sun while waiting for the van, or walking to the nearest store or getting to the supermarket from the drugstore, the heavens showered the drying earth. What a relief! It’s been a long time since the last time I felt the cold breeze. It’s been a long time.
And April is waning. The overcast sky and the rain and the cold wind are giving me a feeling that something will come alive, again. It’s the kind of feeling that will tell you where you are before you open your eyes, or what the time is without seeing the clock. It’s a feeling that makes you reminiscent of something unknown. It’s something new and different. It’s something I can’t explain or understand and it’s something that will never leave. It’s something like the feeling I got one rainy April afternoon as I was so enthused in making a diary to put all the positive things I feel about my cute flute instructor that I don’t mind skipping lunch and snacks. It’s close to the excitement of walking around the school ground with new clothes and school stuffs or seeing old friends and making new ones in the campus. But it’s something more than the relief and amazement of staying in a company for a year or the excitement of going back to school. It’s happiness and fear and doubt and excitement and hatred.
And the rain falls again. And the wind blew. The sky remained overcast. Days will pass and the sun will shine mightily again, making every thing which breathes life feel its warmth. And the rain will kiss the earth again. The cycle goes on. But this feeling, this knowing feeling deep in me, remains.