After the rain.

Blurred streets give way to brilliant sky. A sky so blue that it is almost neon. Your eyes blink and your head shakes because it takes you by surprise. The brilliance of this.

The green of the newly born leaves sway ever so softly as the wind tickles your cheeks. They stretch and grow almost before your very eyes. Needing to shade you from the thickening sun. The rays of which caress your hair and in one swift moment, blows away the cool from your face and warms it instead.

You close your eyes to commemorate this. To remember this. Your eyelashes meet your cheeks and you strive to capture this. To breathe it in and hold it inside. The smell of the fading rain, the heat of the coming sun and the earth unbinding because of them both.

If you glance up and ahead you will find brilliant greens enfolding crass blues. Like a lovers handhold. Folding and melding into each others embrace.

Fighting against one another, but loving every moment of it.

The sky gives birth to wind, which in turns shakes the buds and makes them fall forward. Inch upon centimeter, until they are unfurled and beholding the giggles and sighs of the children below.

They will shade. They will dance and they will absorb splashing puddle drops.

They shiver with excitement at it, and thrill through the summer breezes. They will age above them until they crinkle wrinkle with age and fall to the browning grass below, only to behold giggles once again as their aged carcasses become autumn pillows for laughing children to hop inside.

But for now they are new, and brilliant. And can only become this way once.

At this time.

After the rain.