Rain Drops


The rain in the night woke me up, muffled pounding on the metal roof, roaring growling pouring rain come to melt the snow. Misty morning, dull grey swirling fog, rain still falling in spits and spurts. Looking out the kitchen window at the wet snow, wet yard, wet tree branches, a lone ray of sunlight breaks through the cloudy shroud and pierces the gloom with startling brightness. A million, zillion hanging rain drops clinging precariously to every available surface are suddenly illuminated with glistening silver blinding sunlight. Just as quickly, the clouds reclaim their reign, obscuring the sun’s valiant attempt. Although all those tiny hanging raindrops not longer gleams like millions of minuscule suns, they still remember their sparkling brilliance, and with sly smiles, stubbornly still glisten in the dull grey morning.


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