It’s raining again. Pouring, actually, with gusts of wind and thunder in the distance. The woods around my home always feel a bit like the rainforest in the summer, but this has been the wettest summer I can remember. Usually around this time of year spring’s green lusciousness has become faded and dull due to the Southern heat, and I start counting down the days until autumn, when the leaves will turn and be colorful again.
I’ve never been a religious person but I’ve always been spiritual, and I’ve always placed special importance in water. Rain, to me, represents rebirth, freshness, starting over, transitions… before this summer, before the rain, I was finishing college, burned out. I think I could have stepped straight from that frantic fire into winter hibernation and welcomed the chill, but maybe it was better this way.
I wonder what I will be reborn as, when the rain is over and I stand under the dry Autumn sun. I wonder what the future holds.