Rain feels softer on this side of the hill, a refreshing pause rather than a full stop on the day’s agenda.
We, who don’t care too much about the way our hair looks or our style flows, can point our faces toward the rain and let it soothe our lines.
Rain sounds like peace, staccato notes underscoring moments of reflection and growth.
It makes the grass especially green on this side of the hill, because we know for sure that life is really difficult and absolutely finite, so we have to carpe the diems as fiercely as we can. We’re really good at finding the honest joy over here, the bright laughter that bubbles up through even the grayest days.
Because friendship is easier now too, softer as well on this side of the hill, more patient and reliable in quiet ways we did not know we needed when we were young.
It’s there for us, though, like the sun on rainy days, ready with its light and warmth when we are lucky enough to bask in its glow.
I’m really grateful to live in a place that offers such a nice variety of seasons (even the challenging ones), and among people whose friendship knows no bounds.