After a long long wait it rains again in the land of Watcumecolit. I have been living there for more than 29 years. The last time that the rain touched my burning skin was 10 years ago. The long draught has created such a disarrayment to the nature. The earth gradually turns shabby and scrubby. The biting reality has left a wrinkly face with deep fractures and scars. The heavily dusty earth has made the nature loose her beauty. Old and gruesome like a diabetic patient whose left feet has already been burried in the cemetery.
The trees has not left a trace of leaves in them. At night, when the dryness eased its grip, the naked body and arms stood like the bloodcurdling shadows, chasing the dreams of tomorrow out of everyone's mind. The petrifying nights, although not better than the sickening daylight, up lifted the tense of life a bit. It offered a moment of fantasy that would turn life sour as the sun appears. The dream is no longer there. The draught turned even severe.
The rain is a blessing that no word can describe. It falls into the lap of the universe and heals the wound of the earth. The trees begin to dance again blissfully. The song of joy fills the air and alter the dusty face of the earth into a more than just the beauty of a miss peagant. It's an angel from heaven sent to shower life with His blessings. A beauty and glory at the same time. The face begin to show its genuine truth. Her cheeks turn full as the red apple that grow in summer. Her hair changes into an embroidery silky veils of a bride. It dances gracefully with the wind.
However, the bestowed blessings are not there forever. Draught will soon be back unnotified . So will the rain. The only thing we have is the experience. We learn how to survive during the draught and we learn how to preserve the wealth of the rain to keep us alive. Dryness is not there for nothing. It enriches our appreciation of the blessings of the rain.
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