The Gift of Rainfall

Orange and violet hues from the setting sun cast their light through the western fringe of the woodland. Above the trees heavy clouds shrouded the evening sky and I had only a moment to wait before the pattering of rain began on the canopy above me. With the sinking sun laying between the horizon and the spreading darkness of the edge of the rain clouds I was given a perfect view of the world between the elements of fire and water.

As the rain cascaded off the canopy and down to the woodland floor the drops caught the light and blazed like jewels for the briefest of moments. Looking around me the bark of the conifers glowed with warmth and a stunning green light emerged through the young leaves of the woodland shrubs.

The gentle rain seemed to wash away the stresses of the day, as it had done many times before. As I watched the scene before me I put my hand into my pocket and passed the few coins held there through my fingers. I had to smile, the coins I had would barely buy a coffee at a cheap cafe in town, but there they had no meaning at all. As the light faded and the rain increased the colours changed to delicate muted tones, but I was none the poorer for the passing of the light. The soothing sounds of the rain on the leaves together with the aromas stirred by the movement filled the air. I felt the softness in the ground beneath me as I continued my wanders on the boundary of the woodland and the fields.

The jeweled light of the living energy of the sun with the scents stirred in the twilight of the woodland are the most modest of the gifts of rainfall to some, but to others they are treasure beyond compare. As with many things, it depends on where you stand and the perspective you take.