May 23rd, 2015



The clouds decided to bring some rain after all, but waited until after midnight to do so. I was outside when it began. It was no more than sprinkling, but it continued for several minutes, with a soft sound that I imagine sand falling through an hourglass might sound if it were loud enough to be heard. It's the way sprinkles sound in spring, because spring rain has the softest leaves to fall on.

I went out and stood in it for a couple of minutes. The scent of wet grass soon joined the fragrance of the jasmine, so the night smelled as good as it sounded. I stayed outside until the oak tree had gathered enough water to begin dropping it on the roof, setting up a deeper drumming, and the roof gutter had gathered enough to send it trickling through the downspout with a metallic rattle. The rain continues now, and I've opened my window to listen to it though the air is a bit chilly. The sound of spring rain at night is a sound that can wash away years and make the past bloom like new flowers. I could listen to it all night. Maybe I will.