I got up this morning to
do some yard work and it was pouring rain. It wasn’t the kind of rain that you
could go out in if you didn’t mind getting a little wet. It was a driving rain
that quickly created puddles in the low areas of the grass. I made myself some
coffee and just sat down by the front window; watching the rain. I lost myself
in time and must of sat there for an hour or so watching the raindrops bouncing
off the roof, and the cars, and the street. Currents of water washing the
helpless leaves down the curb and into the large drain at the end of the
street. I absolutely accomplished nothing during this time yet this time was
productive. I let my mind become still and became one with the falling rain. I don’t
mean this like in a zenned-out blissful type of cliché, but just sitting and
watching and not thinking about anything. The only thing that snapped me out of
it was when I noticed the rain beginning to lessen in intensity. This made me
feel disappointed. Even then, I was transfixed. The rain eventually stopped and
the birds began flying around again. Old people passed by walking their dogs.
The sun came back out and devoid of my entertainment, I went back to bed. The yard
work could wait.
