Rainy day

They say a lot can be learned about a person based on how he endures a rainy day. For some, the scene is relaxing and meditative, for others it causes anxiety, as if every drop hits his head. Someone is completely indifferent… and someone is constantly changing all these states of consciousness.

So when all those colorful umbrellas washed out on the street. Like movable roofs above our heads. And some don't even need it, because they like to show their courage and insensitivity a little. What a rain, and even a downpour, compared to all those storms that roared through them.

Well, that magnificent sight when the light of the city is reflected in the puddles. And the louder and harder it falls, the more we are aware of the peace we have. How much it just reminds us of gratitude that we have shelter. And that glorious end of her fall… As if nothing had happened. A reminder that everything has an end. Regardless of whether we enjoyed it or it bothered us.

Like when we water the plants, when it rains it's like the sky is flooding us - because he can't wait to see us bloom. It falls so confidently and sharply, as if every drop knows exactly where it should fall. It's as if every drop knows exactly which point on earth is destined for it. And as if every drop is equally important. If there was only one, all that downpour would not be able to function properly. As if it were some mutual conversation of heaven and earth. Like a conversation between two friends who haven't heard from each other for a long time and now have so much to make up for. Until he encounters a rush of baskets and totally redirects them and untangles their strings.

If we pay better attention to her rhythm of falling, we will hear that it is the rhythm of a special song for us. A rhythm that silences everything around it. It was as if she could hardly wait for it to start falling. She had been sneezing and holding back in her clouds for so long. And she just cut in vain and rushed down. To show his long-prepared choreography. And then so a little proud and proud overshadowed every other event. It's interesting. We who are on earth all aspire to some growth, some heights. And what is already in the heights - gives the impression as if it has a purpose to go down.

Every drop falls equally passionately, concentrated, consciously. And in all that force and speed, at one point, it just hit the ground softly and spilled all over the ground. Then, those drops that fall, clean something, make mud somewhere. In any case, now only the smell of freshness remains, the outlines of old traces, the smells of new beginnings.

It's as if those rainy minutes unite us all. Until that moment, everyone had their own worries in mind. And from that moment on, we all stood under the same veil. And when, after all that, the sun's rays just break through again! It is not the same sun before and after the rain. We are somehow too used to this before the rain, it is too ordinary for us, it is too much for us. This after the rain is like a kind of reward, it shines cleaner and penetrates better. And whoever didn't like the rain, now forgives her.