Listen to the Storm

Have you ever listened to the rain? I mean really listened. Closed your eyes and
just focused on the soothing bombardment of water on the pavement. If you slow
down and listen you start to distinguish individual drops rather than the
collective sound of millions. You can hear the sound of the rain hitting the
trees apart from he rain hitting the ground. So much goes into the one sound
everyone knows a rainfall but really there are so many pieces to it. You can
hear the rain dripping off a roof in a slow consistent rhythm. This rhythm
giving some sort of order to the chaos descending from the heavens . You can
hear the rain falling faster and with more volume. You can hear the intensity
start to build. Growing and growing until the storm is at it's highest peak. No
longer a drizzle this is a downpour. The floodgates have opened and the clouds
split earths lifeblood to the ground with what seems like rage. Rain can be so
peaceful and charming and yet so destructive and even freighting. How can
something humans rely on so heavily cause so much destruction and suffering?
Puddles begin to form as the landscape becomes inefficient at draining the
immense amount of water that has now collected. The new droplets exploding on
contact with the puddles which their predecessors have formed. The water flows
downhill and forms currents growing ever larger and faster as long as the rain
persist. Still growing in intensity the rain seems as if it will not cease any
time soon. Surely the sky must run dry at some point. How can it sustain this
leviathan release of water much longer? The topography of the landscape becoming
more and more visible with puddles and currents forming. And as fast is it
started, it slows. The rain begins to ease up on the throttle. It begins to
relax. Calming down. The inevitable end I'd near. The storm moving on and
dousing others with the pleasure and serenity it brings.  Fleeting clouds leave
congregations of water interspersed throughout the landscape. The once
tumultuous uproar of the droplets striking these puddles has been silenced. The
water is now calm. Sitting still and waiting. Waiting to be evaporated back to
from whence it came. Waiting to continue on the perpetual cycle in which it is

The End

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