The crisp, cool nighttime air. Fog laying low between trees. Its been raining all day and the earth is soaked with cloud water.
The breeze breathing through my open window. A busy road remains busy nearby. Sounds of transport trucks' tires slicing through puddled laneways.
The sky is an orange-kind-of-grey, keeping the stars hidden from our eyes. And I breathe in that chilly nocturnal air.
I smell the rain before I hear it but I listen for it anyway. The steady tiny drumming on the rooftop. Generously and faithfully nourishing the earth.
One does not need to hear the rain to know that it is there. One simply needs to inhale the fresh and poignant perfume of life. The waters of Noah dispersing here and there.
And just like Noah's waters a memory floods my mind. Driving from the farthest West to the farthest East. Nine days traveled and a dozen 7 year-old memories saved.
The journeys and adventures God has guided me through are what makes appreciating life's details so easy. The memories He's helped create are constant reminders of today's treasures.
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