Fresh world…

What a fresh world it can be sometimes. It was raining this morning, I didn’t mind, there’s something about spring rain. It seems to clean everything, give things a bit of a polish. I guess you could call it renewal. Yes, renewal. It’s that time of year.

The rain on the wisteria around eight this morning was so delicately beautiful, the light perfume from the flowers subtly overwhelming, a soft pastel smear of lilac hitting my eyes and the vodka clarity of the raindrops making me want to gently shake the blooms and collect the nectar. I almost went to fetch a glass. Instead I caught a couple of drops on my fingertips and tasted them.

Occasionally something clicks and the world gets me all over again, or should I say that I get it? Odd that a couple of raindrops could, for a few moments, make me forget all the shit in this dirty world; the pain, hurt, greed, the badness and the bad people, all gone for a couple of moments inside the taste of a tiny raindrop and the fragrance of a wisteria chain. The world tasted fresh, it tasted sweet.

Let it rain.