April 2004

Rain. The taste, the smell, the feel & essence.

  That cold purity of Nature. The freshness that only comes after a storm, The feel of the drops on my skin Flowing down my back, Through my hair, Clinging to my eyelashes.

Rain. Drizzle. Sprinkles. Showers. Storms.

  The simple joy of a storm – Warm Summer storms, Breaking the monotony; Mild Autumn storms, Heralding the approach of things more violent; Harsh Winter storms; Stranding families in homes, Bringing them closer to one another; Sweet Spring storms, Bringing new life, regeneration. The cycle begins again.

Rain. Pure. Simple. Refresing. Magical.

  Rain drops are Nature’s tears. And whether she cries from joy, Pain, sorrow or necessity, The end remains the same.

Rain. Falling. One drop at a time. Nature’s life blood.