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Raindrops

raindropsFriday was a nice day here on the East Coast. The weather was warmer than it should be for the first of November. The sun shone early in the day and gave way to clouds in the afternoon.

By evening there was the soft sound of raindrops outside the open windows, coupled with that scent – that scent that comes when the rain hits the earth, an explosion of scent.

I was compelled to go out back on the deck and feel the fairy- light kisses of these raindrops. I lifted my face to the sky and felt them, one by one, as they landed on my skin. And I thought, This. This is being alive.

Sometimes it is the slightest thing, like cool raindrops on my warm face, that remind me how lucky I am to be alive. I write this here at my desk with a terrible, monster of a cold, but I still feel lucky. Because I almost wasn’t here. I almost missed Friday night. I almost missed the quiet of my neighborhood at 7 o’clock. I almost missed wet feet and fairy-light kisses.

 

Raindrops


Elaina J. Martin


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APA Reference
Martin, E. (2013). Raindrops. Psych Central. Retrieved on June 24, 2019, from https://blogs.psychcentral.com/being-bipolar/2013/11/03/raindrops/

 

Last updated: 2 Nov 2013
Statement of review: Psych Central does not review the content that appears in our blog network (blogs.psychcentral.com) prior to publication. All opinions expressed herein are exclusively those of the author alone, and do not reflect the views of the editorial staff or management of Psych Central. Published on PsychCentral.com. All rights reserved.