We seem to have normal rains only when there is a cyclone in the bay, we are placed so in the middle of nowhere.
Nowadays the afternoons are privileged for the gardens, so difficult to maintain a routine,how well we used to follow the time table during the school days and college days, to forget them fully when we get to be free and lazy.
I was caught one afternoon with the passing clouds bringing in a shower,while digging in the garden pulling out the weeds and making pathways around the plant for the water to stay.
Rain drops falling can be a theme for any art,
For me it was a slow realization of the different effects, that i was able to separate them into lines
First it was the feel of those drops on the skin, one after the other,picking a different place,so close yet another spot and a new sensor.
Then the sight of them hitting the ground, making water marks on the sand and gravel, also when a leaf of a plant learns to dance with the drop making the steps for the movements,giving space and time for the leaf to balance.
Next came the smell of the wet mud, a sense i seem to be loosing fast, those days i could smell the new mown hay and the distant rain with the smell of a different ground.
The audio with the drops hitting the leaves and the far away asbestos sheets, and the tinned roof of an air conditioned covering, was a pleasure not wanting to make any changes with the volume.
The only sense left was the taste , i could have had that too if i continued to walk in the rain, to let those drops bring on the taste of the high atmosphere, on my tongue.
If one could bring on the best of the senses, am sure it would be an orchestra, moving and flowing, with the maestro hidden behind the clouds, deciding where and when to shower for the gathering, irrespective of the applause she receives or not.
( oh god, i remembered something, this addition was at the time of checking the lines
atheist writing on the wall - god is nowhere,
Theist writing on the same wall - God is now, here)
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