It rained once again the next day. Nighttime had fallen. We were watching TV in the living room when it began. Without any warning, the wind began to pick up. The screen door to the verandah began to move in the breeze, gently making contact again and again with the door frame – moving to its own rhythm. You might laugh at me when I say this, but there was the smell of rain in the air. I knew it was coming. Within a matter of minutes, I began to hear the sound of the rain hitting the branches of the trees. It soon became a continuous sound, getting louder and louder and filling the air.
I went out to the verandah to experience the sweet rain more fully. I walked up to the front gate. The water collecting on the road in front of the house was illuminated by the reflected light of the street lamps. The bright lights of the store fronts across the road almost shone in the rain. Vehicles splashed their way through the water, spinning up a light spray with their wheels. A few people made they way on foot carrying umbrellas. Others waited out the rain in front of the stores. I settled into a comfortable cane chair in the verandah to immerse myself in the sound of the rain. I closed my eyes. I fell into a gentle and soothing sleep.