Remembering

The rains came last night. Unannounced and very welcome.

I lay in bed unable to sleep after my midnight conversation. It had been a long day and my eyes stung from fatigue. Yet my mind whirred ahead oblivious to my physical exhaustion. I hit the bedside light and pulled out Julia Cameron. Then I smelt it. The unmistakable heavy humid smell of rain.

The sky slowly turned a pale red and a cool breeze raced through the apartment, chasing away the unforgiving heat. I climbed out of bed, fixed myself a drink and settled on my balcony to watch the storm approach.

As the rain hammered on roofs and roads, I breathed in deeply. Work has been a slave driver and my ritual of reading into the wee hours of the morning on my balcony had been reduced to a memory. As I sat watching nature's beauty unfold, I realised how much I have missed those sacred nights.