The trees swell and sway. There's a rhythmic beating of rain on tin. A melancholy tapping. As all things in Haiti, there's a heartbeat, here, in this storm.
The wind offers a reprieve from the sweaty and sultry heat. It's always welcome, to me. This rain.
The sounds calm my nerves and I count the drops on the flat of my feet.
We're all a part of this.
This near, and this far.
The weather is god's gift. We can watch the drops of rain hit the palm of our hand. And we can stare, miles away, at the rain clouds gathering over the ocean. Over the mountains.
The sky turning black, and the raging clouds.
And we're a part of that too.
Sometimes, I think I feel everything.
And sometimes, I know that I never could.
And for that, I am thankful for the ever changing weather.
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