Have you ever seen the rain in autumn as twilight falls? The crisp autumn
air cushions the downpour with a soft fog that looms like dry ice as it
is pounded with the chilly precipitation. The scene becomes even more
picturesque as a lake is added, with weeping willows leaning toward their
Among the rain floats a certain aura that is shaded bluish gray. The
graying sky slowly turns violet, and then deep velvety blue. The glittering
stars are hidden tonight, by gray clouds that tint the blanket of sky
an all-night gray. Gray like a snowy morning, or gray like an old movie.
A gray that will stretch over the world until dawn, giving you the false
impression that it is only a cold, overcast day. But it is not day, it
is night. And it is raining.
The rain comes in piercing torrents, cold, but strangely warm. Familiar
warm, like that of a mother's touch. But still cold. The distant, biting
cold that shatters your skin and trickles down your shadowed cheeks. The
cold is one that whispers of a coming winter, yet reminds you that it
is still autumn. The ever contradictory battle between cold and warm,
warm and cold.
The accompanying wind sweeps through your hair, blowing it about your
face. The warm, friendly wind, that can turn cold at any moment, but is
warm for the time being. A wind that lifts
up your sleeves and circles around your wrists. The same wind that causes
hurricanes, but also strands sailors at sea. The wind tonight comes hand-in-hand
with the ghostly deluge.
As you step forward, you can see yourself edging into your reflection
at the water's edge. Upon the lake, the pitter-patter of the raindrops
reminds you that you are wet and frozen, but for the moment the water
mesmerizes you. Much like Narcissus was. But you look, not out of vanity,
but out of sheer amazement at nature's beauty. You stare out over the
lake, seeing the smooth glassiness of what seems a phantasm, disturbed
only by the falling shower. As the cloud-bursts flood over you, you are
once again reminded of your state of discomfort. And as you walk away,
you sneak one last glimpse at the lake. The fog is lifting and the force
of the rain is ebbing. As the autumn rain slowly dissipates, people forget
the beauty. But you will remember, won't you?