After the Storm
by Ellie Labes
November 19, 2009
The rain stops. I
step outside into the fresh, new world. Low, soft thunder
gently rolls in the distance. I look up toward the eastern
sky, gazing at the anemic clouds, thinned out and translucent.
The clouds have spilled all of their tears upon the world, as
if to make it more sensitive and soft. They are almost like a
human face after weeping, becoming more beautiful and true, but
also so much more vulnerable, as if the slightest breeze could come
and lift away their slight weight and carry them off. No
breeze blows, though. All is still. As I turn my head
to the dripping leaves of the trees, I notice no birds chirping.
Everything is hushed, calm, and reserved. Even the
insects give honor to this special moment, and mute their
chittering for a while.
A thin ray of light slides its way through
the relieved clouds and shines off of all the tiny water droplets,
creating millions of small rainbows. The whole world now has
a violet tint to it, and everything is more vivid. The trees
are an almost indescribable green, so lush and smooth; even the
trunks seem to be colored with the softest of moss. The soil
is a rich, dark brown, signifying the ground’s quenched thirst.
I taste the humid, but cool, air around me.
It has the flavor of a melted glacier trickling in small
rivulets down a cool mountainside. I close my eyes and just
savor the intricate flavors of the moist air for a moment, before
opening them again to the amazing place I’m standing in.
I walk to the edge of the patio and bend
down to run my fingers over the leaves of the rejuvenated potted
flowers. Their petals are so soft, smooth, and wet. The
water feels cool and comforting on my fingertips. I move my
hands down the stem to the leaves. Rubbing down the leaf,
water slides off the tip into a small puddle on the ground.
When I rub up, I can feel the grating of the cuticle of the
plant objecting to my direction of motion. As I slowly rise
to my feet, I feel a small drop of water fall upon my cheek.
I stare up, and realize that the clouds are not completely
empty yet and are not quite as thin as they seem. I breathe
in deep and feel the sweet air roll over my tongue and through my
nose one more time before turning to retreat back in my home before
the rain begins again.
