Rain on a holiday is rather nice.
When I opened the curtains in the morning, it was completely raining outside.
I feel disappointed right after I realize that it’s my day off, but then I feel somewhat resigned.
I feel relieved and say, “Ah, I’ll just stay home today.
Of course, I used to hate rain. Of course, I used to hate rain.
Of course, even now, if it starts pouring down in the morning on a weekday, my spirits drop and I become pessimistic about life.
But as I get older, I begin to appreciate not only the splendor of the spring and fall seasons, but also the slight changes in the weather during the course of a day, such as snow and rain.
In particular, recently, when it has been raining, it has been “after the rain.
I can see a slight glimmer of light through the clouds, the outline of the sun, the rain gradually becoming less intense, the ridges in the distance becoming clearer, and the clouds surrounding the area starting to move.
The whole time I’m watching, I can see it slowly, slowly moving toward clear skies. It is somewhat similar to the feeling of relief I get when I feel the various breaths of spring in the midst of winter.
On holidays, when I decide to stay home, I look up on my phone the time when the rain is likely to stop, and I often go out on the balcony or lie down in the living room and watch the sky and the scenery as it moves toward clearer skies.
The sky reminds me of something someone once said.
When you are a baby, you look up at the sky and weep; when you grow up, you look forward and laugh; when you reach middle age, you look down at the ground and lament your life; and when you reach old age, you look up at the sky again and weep.
Naturally, the sky that one saw as a baby and the sky that one saw as an old man will have different meanings, even if they are the same sky.
The sky that had no “meaning” when he was a baby will surely have some “meaning” for him as he grows up. He tries to sense it somehow.
And when you watch the rain go up until the sky turns blue, as it did today, even that disappears, and even your awareness of yourself looking up at the sky loses its meaning, and you feel as if you are gradually melting into the sky itself.
Of course, I don’t know what that meaning is, but that feeling of melting is not a bad one.
After coming back to myself, I suddenly thought that perhaps when my consciousness completely disappears and melts into the meaningless sky, that is the true meaning of “death” for a person.
Wet with rain, the green leaves are also waiting for the sun to shine.
