But It Pours...

The weather went from strange to utterly mad. On the one hand, sand blowing out of the sky is bizarre and peculiar phenomenon. But you sort of expect to get sandstorms in the desert, even if you have no idea what they are going to be like. Yet for the next day to bring rain is just too odd. At first I didn't even believe it was raining - I thought the pattering in the courtyard was the fountain being rinsed out or someone gardening the bushes.

So it rained, coming down and washing away the dust and grime that had been deposited over everything. Part of me wished it would come into the room and wash away all of the accumulated sand in here. Another part of me wanted to go out and sit in the rain and feel washed off, but of course here rain is just as dirty as everything else. It will actually leave brown marks on white clothing.

Nevertheless, there is something psychologically cleansing about rain, so I decided to write a quick haiku about it. Why? I don't know, it's just something I do.

Spring raindrops carve out
patterns in the swirling dust
and holes in my heart.

Also, the weather made me think of this song:

The sky is crying the streets are full of tears
Rain come down wash away my fears
And all this writing on the wall
Oh I can read between the lines
Rain come down forgive this dirty town
Rain come down and give this dirty town
A drink of water a drink of wine