At This Moment In Time: The Last Of April

The conservatory is emptied of sound while its roof is increasingly rebelled against by an army of rain droplets on their course to whatever earth they may find between the concrete water features and porcelain plant pots.

The last day of April and I open the door to it, the scent of the heat ascending from the concrete slabs; the garden furniture long used to these storms as the rain once more picks up.

I reach my hand through the door and allow a few moments to imagine that I am a part of it.

In these moments I see a spiders web. So fine it is untouched whilst the rain takes a moment to recall, so too do the droplets upon it fall to the floor as my hearing stills for a second spared of the hammering.

And just like that, as I write this and see the livened colour contrasted by the grey clouds my screen un-immune to the rain, I can breathe.

I have been waiting for a moment like this. Air once more fills my lungs as the clouds clear and I am nowhere else but now.

The rain falls full force and inside I know I hope for thunder but I don’t feel it.

At this point I realise I wandered through the garden to where I sit without shoes, as it stills I feel as though I may as well embrace it my speed no match for the beautiful weather I feel I have waited so long to see. My bare feet touch the pathway; the bitter cold I expect never arrives as I take steps towards the plants, the blades of grass and leaves decorated so gracefully even in the violence of a rain-cloud.  

My cameras immune system not strong enough even as the sun pierced through a cloud and I return to being seated in hope of a rainbow while the sun once more takes prominence of this land in her rise to summer. 

I know right now where I belong.

In the noting of a smile on my face in the middle of an April shower I find an optimism for the day,

My dearest wishes, 



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