Today it rains, breaking a week of scorching heat and stifling humidity with as little fanfare as a feather falling to earth. I was expecting a spectacular display, which is usual in summer when such heat gives way. Change is the only eternal, and even when expected, it is not what it seemed it would be. This dark, quiet rain is as glorious as the greatest thunderstorm ever could have been. It makes the flowers smile.
The photo above is from another rainy day, hundred of miles away, and thousands of feet into the mountains. These two days remind me of each other, for I was out walking in both, yet they are incomparably different.
Beauty falling softly.
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