As the sun peers over the horizon it paints a pink blush with its dismay. It’s discovered the first monsoon rain playing shamelessly over the land, racing unfettered with the wind. It dances and leaps in sheets ringing with joyful laughter as it patters over stones and guffaws out of rain pipes. Celebrating temporary dominion over the relentless dust of summer, it calls the sleeping from their beds to enjoy its cool perfumed kiss.
This is a form of mindful writing called a “small stone”. You can learn about it and read my other Small Stones here.