Rain.

It was raining.

I walked out of Soda Hall (UC Berkeley computer science building) and saw the soft drizzle that moistens the air. I had studied entire day and was ready to head home. But this rare sight changed my mind.

I told myself, let’s go for a walk.

Instead of going to the north, I walked south, past Hearst Ave and entered the scenic part of the campus. My mind was peaceful. Such is the power of rain.

I was watching a black and white movie. Figures hurried home with umbrellas or hoodies. Some strode as they normally would. Some discovered new scenes they never knew existed. As for me, I just walked.

I walked with my head facing up. I placed my glasses away so my vision would not be blurred.

The drizzle.

The eyes naturally winked. Yet the mind tells them the truth: Come now, it’s soft. It’s sweet.

Embrace the rain. Experience the freshness.

I steered to a narrow paths. Blurred street lamp guided me through the dimmed road.

I wonder, wouldn’t it be nice to share this view with the person I love? 

I walked on. Rain has the power of blurring everything, including truth and lies, decisiveness and uncertainty. I no longer cared who passed by me, nor which path to take. I simply walked on.

When did I begin loving rain? I couldn’t pinpoint a specific time, but I did recall the trigger. It was an essay written by one of my elementary school classmates. Back then in Hong Kong, we had to write about interesting daily stories. It happened to be raining season, so everyone wrote about rain. At the very end of the assignment, we were required to write reflection of that story. The majority, including me, wrote about how rain makes a person happy or sad. But this classmate of mine was on an entire level.

The thoughts behind the story. The idea! In hindsight, it didn’t belong to a ten year old. But I got my hands on the writing. I read it.

Main idea: he hated rain. Many people hated rain. They found it troublesome. Yet a leisure tour in nature would reveal an opposite sentiment. The land flourish because of it. The insects and birds and beasts all welcomed it. It’s not that humans hate rain; it’s just that they don’t know how to appreciate it.

Ever since then, I tried my best learning how to appreciate its beauty. For rain is beautiful.

I would walk down the path, around the turn, out of the building, into the opening. At the end of my journey, would I be presented with a view so marvelous and inspiring?

One Reply to “Rain.”

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