Dear you,
I am writing this. It is for you.
I do not know your name.
I do not know your face.
Maybe you live far from the rain.
It does not matter.
This is for you.
I am watching the weather.
The day began.
The sky was low.
A heavy gray. Not white. A gray like wool.
The air was thick. You could feel it. A weight on the skin.
The air did not move.
The trees were still.
Even the birds were quiet.
It was a waiting kind of day.
I sat by the window.
I watched the clouds.
They were not clouds.
It was just one cloud.
The whole sky.
It moved very slow.
It came from the hills.
You could see it press down.
The hills looked flat.
The color was gone.
Just gray. And the dark green of the pines.
The window glass was cold.
I put my hand on the glass.
I watched.
I wondered.
Are you watching this?
Wherever you are?
Do you feel the pressure change?
Do you feel the air get heavy?
It began to rain.
Not a real rain.
A mist.
It was so fine you could not see it.
You could only see it on the glass.
Tiny dots of water.
They appeared.
They did not run.
They just stayed.
The world got soft.
The edges of the house across the street.
The line of the fence.
It all blurred.
It was like looking through wet glass.
The whole world was wet glass.
I thought about you.
I thought about a face I have never seen.
Hands I have never held.
It was a quiet thought.
It fit the weather.
The mist got heavy.
It turned to rain.
A real rain.
A steady, soft sound.
A sound like “shhh.”
Over and over.
The tiny drops on the window joined.
They made a line.
The line ran down the glass.
Then another.
And another.
The glass was crying.
No. The glass was just wet.
The street was dark.
Shiny.
A car went by.
The sound of the tires on the water.
A tearing sound.
Then it was gone.
The rain sound came back.
The “shhh.”
I sat for a long time.
The room got dark.
The light from the gray sky was thin.
The rain did not stop.
It was a good sound.
A sound that covers everything.
You do not have to think.
You do not have to talk.
You just listen.
You just are.
I wondered if you like the rain.
If you like to sit and listen.
If you feel safe.
I felt safe.
The house was warm.
The rain was outside.
I was inside.
Waiting.
The whole world was waiting.
Then it stopped.
Not all att once.
It just got quiet.
The sound was gone.
There was a new sound.
Dripping.
Water from the roof.
Water from the trees.
Drop.
Drop.
Drop.
A slow, clear sound.
The clouds broke.
I saw it happen.
A small hole in the gray.
A patch of blue.
A pale, washed-out blue.
Like old jeans.
Then the hole got bigger.
The sun came through.
It was not a bright sun.
It was a wet sun.
It lit up the water on the leaves.
The leaves shined.
The street steamed.
The air smelled like wet dirt.
A good smell.
A clean smell.
The day is almost over.
The sky is blue and gray.
The clouds are moving fast now.
The air is cold.
It is finished.
The storm passed.
I watched it all.
I am still by the window.
The glass is cold.
I wanted to tell you.
I wanted you to see it with me.
Maybe you did.
🦊Fops News 
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