Rain in August

img_0748 Rain in February is unpleasant—it can be gray and gross, icy and often lashing. But rain in August—it’s a revelation. I just walked down the block to Floyd’s for a Mexican hot chocolate and returned amidst sprinkles. As I was passing under the big oak tree—a soaring leaf canopy—the real rain began. I stopped there in the warmth and the green, leaned against the brick wall, and ate my banana while listening to the droplets coming down on all parched things. And smelled the new rain smells.