The sky outside is overcast. Right before my eyes, the sunlight has receeded and the skies have become much darker. The rain is going to come down heavily.
I love this weather.
I am both sad and emotionless at the same time. I remember my days in boarding school. When it rains, the hostel is very quiet. I am not asleep. I am on my top bunk bed, looking outside the window – watching the rain come down. I am thinking of my home across town and feeling lonely. At the same time I am happy at the separation the rain has afforded me. No need to talk to anyone, the whole place is very quiet. I am warm and cosy on my bed. I can daydream. And after the rains, one steps out to a newly reborn earth. The freshness of the air. The earthy scent. The grassy smell. We once had hailstones (little ice blocks) during a rain in my year one I believe. If I remember correctly, that was the only time. We ran out unto the fields in the rain, pickng up the little ice blocks, wiping off the dirt, and popping them in our mouths.