Julia adores rain. There is something about rainy days that no amount of sunshine can replace. The late night pitter patter of raindrops splashing unto colorbond roofs is brilliantly therapeutic.
When I was young I believed that rains are when the sun and clouds are crying. Thus every time it rained, waves of sadness and disappointment would overwhelm a certain 4 year old.
When I was a bit older I believed that rains are when the earth is having a shower. I used to make endless amount of paper boats and release them downstream any gush of water. My brother, sister and I would run along side the little struggling boats until they float no more. With each sinking of paper boats, my childhood fantasies disappear. Today I no longer remember how to fold origami boats but thankfully some fantasies lingered. I look forward to seeing my children and grandchildren in the future chasing the paper boats that I have helped them to make, with their little gumboots splashing puddles of rain.
Lately there has been plentiful of rain. A couple of times a day, several days a week. An old habit of mine was never carrying an umbrella anywhere I go. That certainly has landed me in some rather awkward and inconvenient situations such as running in the rain with a make shift notebook umbrella as well as waiting undercover for the rain to pass.
Indeed, Invisible Umbrella.
This year my little Esprit umbrella has truly lived. It's been to as far South as Mandurah, as far North as Morley, as far East as Cannington and as far West as Crawley. Pretty impressive for a little black 'ella in just a year.
Today, little 'ella went to uni with me.
Within 15 seconds of arriving in uni, it started to rain. Unfolding my ella and patting myself on the back for the wise decision, I saw a canteen lady running towards me in the rain. I struggled within whether to offer her the solace of my umbrella and risk looking like a know-it-all, or lower the umbrella 2 degrees and block the sight someone else's distress. In the end, I took too long to decide and walked past her quietly.
Then it POURED. So much so that my clothes were getting wet and I too had to seek shelter.
The sky is crying, because it witnessed my selfishness. My insensitive egotism fueled by ignorance.
Remember the days when I was the one running in the rain, I lost count of the many many many times I had wished that someone would ask if I'd like a "lift", someone, anyone. Two did, and I was so appreciative I could not thank them enough.
And then what happened?
Julia Sun, shame on you.
It wasn't just today was it? It was yesterday too, in fact, twice, yesterday.
*silence*
I adore rain. I especially love how it has taught me a valuable lesson today.
When I was young I believed that rains are when the sun and clouds are crying. Thus every time it rained, waves of sadness and disappointment would overwhelm a certain 4 year old.
When I was a bit older I believed that rains are when the earth is having a shower. I used to make endless amount of paper boats and release them downstream any gush of water. My brother, sister and I would run along side the little struggling boats until they float no more. With each sinking of paper boats, my childhood fantasies disappear. Today I no longer remember how to fold origami boats but thankfully some fantasies lingered. I look forward to seeing my children and grandchildren in the future chasing the paper boats that I have helped them to make, with their little gumboots splashing puddles of rain.
Lately there has been plentiful of rain. A couple of times a day, several days a week. An old habit of mine was never carrying an umbrella anywhere I go. That certainly has landed me in some rather awkward and inconvenient situations such as running in the rain with a make shift notebook umbrella as well as waiting undercover for the rain to pass.
Indeed, Invisible Umbrella.This year my little Esprit umbrella has truly lived. It's been to as far South as Mandurah, as far North as Morley, as far East as Cannington and as far West as Crawley. Pretty impressive for a little black 'ella in just a year.
Today, little 'ella went to uni with me.
Within 15 seconds of arriving in uni, it started to rain. Unfolding my ella and patting myself on the back for the wise decision, I saw a canteen lady running towards me in the rain. I struggled within whether to offer her the solace of my umbrella and risk looking like a know-it-all, or lower the umbrella 2 degrees and block the sight someone else's distress. In the end, I took too long to decide and walked past her quietly.
Then it POURED. So much so that my clothes were getting wet and I too had to seek shelter.
The sky is crying, because it witnessed my selfishness. My insensitive egotism fueled by ignorance.
Remember the days when I was the one running in the rain, I lost count of the many many many times I had wished that someone would ask if I'd like a "lift", someone, anyone. Two did, and I was so appreciative I could not thank them enough.
And then what happened?
Julia Sun, shame on you.
It wasn't just today was it? It was yesterday too, in fact, twice, yesterday.
*silence*
I adore rain. I especially love how it has taught me a valuable lesson today.
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