Release
The air stood still for just a moment, a deep breath of sorts, before it was to commence the purge of its skies. In one moment the sweet sounds of drops falling from the sky gave the promise of relief and, in a twist of irony, brought smiles to the faces of many in contrast to the usual metaphor. I, upon hearing the first drops strike the tin awning like sticks on a metal drum, felt a sigh escape my lips and closed my eyes to experience the rush of cool air which descended, chasing after the tender droplets. It was, or is since it has commenced again, a gentle storm: no anrgy rumblings of thunder or bright clashes strewn across the sky. Instead it is a gentle rain, almost an apology for the past few days, taunting us with the potential, but never promised, clearing of the air. Dense thick air which hung above us all, still and unmoving lest the motion of a passing car stir up a hot breeze for passers-by. The feeling of walking into the tropics, however with fewer exotics to be seen, became our everyday and a mere moment out of the sparse shade was enough to take the breath from your lungs to be replaced with what could very nearly be called the contents of a sauna.
But now with the swish-swish of every car on the roadway I can hear the change; the falling of the vapour curtain to rest at our feet and give to the ground the breath which is seemed to withold from us. My skin feels a welcome chill, foreign and a feeling almost forgotten for it is not in this season, in these years, as familiar a feeling as it should be. I sincerely hope, however, it lingers longer than a mere evening to bring respite and rest to the weary and worn.