~On rain and memories.
The scent of the heavens, one unlike any other. Needless to say, I've plenty of memories attached to this sensation.
Some concern with memorable spots, old rusty windows through which my childhood would be completed staring at hills on cloudy afternoons while others mediate towards more wilder sensations, bodies sticking to one another and wet kisses under the backdrop of rain and thunder.
Yet, no matter how many years pass... This subtlety with which rain sweeps over my senses... It's majestic. Almost hypnotic as simultaneously, a rush of emotions tingling with nostalgia overpower me.
And then, without my consent; my mind surges through all the memories it associates itself with the scent of the wet earth. I find myself running forward and falling into the wet mud just as I feel myself lying on a hammock, smoking and talking about life with strangers who roamed the world like I wished to.
But then again.
The times when I'm calm yet undecided about the world's workings, I arrive at bizarre conclusions surrounding this very phenomenon. Of how magical rains are. Atoms caught in an eternal cycle of shifting of matter as they rise to the sky blended with air, to fall back down as the flow of rain or if at times, nature wills; to gently cover the ground with solid ice and soft snow. Perhaps, water itself is the only substance capable of such freedom as we humans stand on the ground, umbrellas at hand, fighting off the very drops that struggled to get back to us.
Now if that ain't a tragic tale, ask the plants on the westward fields as to what they think. For as they shall sway and collectively dance amongst the tunes of the rains, they'll cheerfully express their joy; even after they melt out of existence and their successors continue their traditional dance; the monsoon always returns for them, even if it does so after laying waste to the cities and emotions of men. How very fitting.
(It rained after a pretty long time; dull grey skies and musky wind merging with Mogwai's music. You could call it the perfect inspiration to lay back and think something dreamy. So, here it is; trapped in words for you.)