The rain passed by.

Unseasonal rain on the street. Photo: Quang Vinh

The dry season is approaching its most intense days!

The stifling, oppressive dry season drags on slowly and heavily, like a traveler struggling to take each difficult step with a parched throat, heading towards the dimly lit well ahead.

In recent days, there have been sudden thunderstorms in the afternoons. They intimidate passersby with the distant rumble of thunder, then the wind suddenly rushes in, sweeping through the trees and rooftops, whipping up dust and scattering dry leaves everywhere.

Just like yesterday, as I was closing the office door, the wind suddenly picked up. Like a herd of untamed horses, it roared through the windowpanes. At first, it was scorching hot, burning my skin, but then it gradually cooled down. Occasionally, I could hear the distant rumble of thunder.

Finally, the wind died down, then stopped completely. The air became even more stifling, without a single gentle breeze to relieve the discomfort. It seemed the thunderstorm had wasted too much energy; now there was no wind, and no rain either.

But today was a little strange. The weather early in the morning was quite muggy, but the sky was covered in a dull gray cloud instead of the usual clear sky. Then suddenly it started raining heavily without wind or thunder.

It started raining early in the morning. This was quite unusual; many people pulled their cars onto the sidewalk, stood under the awnings, and watched the streams of water cascading down, muttering to themselves about being forgetful and not bringing raincoats.

There were also those who braved the rain to go out. And I was one of them, though I still feared the sudden, unseasonal downpours during the hot days. At those times, the asphalt surface would be steaming, and driving felt like being in a sauna. By the time I got home, I'd have a runny nose, a headache, and chills down my spine.

The streets were also deserted and empty in the rain. Photo: TH

Unseasonal raindrops, defying even the usual "morning-afternoon" pattern, poured down on the asphalt road. The road to work, usually bustling and noisy with people and vehicles, which I travel four times a day, suddenly became quiet and deserted in the downpour.

The rising humidity carries a hint of lingering spring nostalgia and a touch of summer's inviting heat, enough to make me yearn for the first summer rains of my hometown.

Back then, in late March and early April, there were often sudden afternoon thunderstorms. At first, there was just a gentle breeze, feeling cool and refreshing. Then, just a few minutes later, the storm would come rushing in. Dark clouds would gather from the horizon, initially just small, scattered clusters, but in an instant, they would become pitch black like mountains, almost completely covering the sky. The treetops would sway from side to side in the swirling wind.

A deep, rumbling thunderclap erupted against the pitch-black sky. Lightning streaked across the clouds, illuminating the landscape. Then, suddenly, as if someone had pierced the heavens with a stick, the rain poured down. The children excitedly called out to each other, stripping off their clothes and jumping into the yard to bathe and play, despite the adults' scolding, "You shouldn't bathe in the first rain of the season because you'll easily catch a cold."

The April rains delight children, but bring gloom to adults. The low-lying rice paddies, though past the ripening stage, are not yet ready for harvest and will be flooded quickly. A few days later, when the water recedes, the rice grains, having been submerged for days, will sprout, leaving only a meager harvest to sell cheaply, or to save for feeding pigs and chickens.

The rain became heavier. The raindrops clung together, chasing each other on the road, joyfully splashing. The moisture cooled the air, dispelling the stifling heat of the past few days. The trees seemed to dance and sing to the music of this unseasonal rain.

Looking at the once bustling street now deserted, I suddenly felt an unusual sense of peace. A peace that is rarely found even in the place one considers most peaceful—one's own home.

It turns out that sometimes, even in the noisiest, dustiest places, we can find a strange sense of peace, making us feel incredibly relaxed. Like the streets right now, devoid of cars, without tired and irritable faces, and without the blaring horns of vehicles.

Peace lingered in the rain, in the leisurely waving of an inflatable mannequin placed in front of a newly opened clothing store.

This morning's rain made the already slow pace of life even slower. People's souls easily harmonize with the rhythm of the falling rain, as if nothing could separate them. The raindrops tapping on the eaves, on the leaves, on the asphalt create an endless and profound symphony.

That symphony resonated throughout the land and sky, echoing in the hearts of each person with wondrous melodies, depending on the elevated mood at that moment, pure and refreshing.

Of course, after the rain, the weather remains stifling, and the sun continues to shine brightly. And the suffocating, oppressive days of the dry season drag on relentlessly.

Therefore, unseasonal rains become all the more precious. The rain soothes the burdens, hustle, and burning heat of daily life, leaving behind a breath of vitality.

But let's just enjoy what this unseasonal rain brings. Like those standing under the eaves sheltering from the morning rain, no matter how busy life is, they will feel happier and more relaxed when they hear the rain falling on the roof, when they see the water flowing on the dry road.

Therefore, the streets are devoid of tired and irritable faces. It's as if the unseasonal rain that passed through this morning has bound everyone together, together with this land!

According to Thanh Hung (baokontum.com.vn)

Source: https://baogialai.com.vn/con-mua-ngang-qua-post319009.html