After the Rain

The world is different. Everything is softer. The soil underfoot, the bark on trees. Even sounds are softer. Somehow dampened by the soaked landscape. Or maybe it's just that everything that makes noise can finally relax after the long dry spell. And though thier tone maybe softer, noise itself is multiplied after the rain. Just a few days ago the evenings were quiet with only the wind to hear. Maybe carrying the stray bray of a donkey from across the big pasture. But tonight, after a stretch of rain. Noise. Sounds of animals, insects, birds, and water running somewhere unseen. It's different after the rain. The whole world comes alive singing a greatful chorus. And the colors are brighter. Even in the fading shadows of sunset the muted fields have become emerald carpets and pastel wildflowers are vibrant as if freshly painted. The air I had paid no mind to in the past I am acutly aware of after the rain. I can feel it. It's the opposite of wrapping up in a warm blanket on a cold night. But just as comforting. After the rain everything is different. There is hope. And peace. And the land agrees.

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