Member-only story
FICTION | NATURE | CYCLES
The Dance of Rain.
From sky to ocean, and back again.
Droplets form in the sky, still too small, still too cold in grayish clouds. They tremble, fall, cutting through the air, pulled down to the earth. The ground greets them, a leaf or stone, and they splash, calling to others. And they gather, pooling in the low areas, seeping between cracks. They are young and restless.
A trickle at first, slipping over mud, around roots, finding a path toward each other. They merge, a liquid chorus, growing stronger. The trickle becomes a stream, carving the earth, carrying nature’s secrets.
They bend, twist, and widen, a river now, alive with purpose.
Through valleys they rush, over rocks, under bridges, past cities and forests, tireless. Life swims with them, plants lean toward them, and everything depends on their flow. Days pass, weeks, until the horizon shifts to salt-stained air. The river grows old, slows, and surrenders to the ocean’s warm embrace.
There, they blend, vast and deep, no longer droplets or a river, held in something endless.
But journeys never end.
Called by the sun, drawn back to the sky, droplets dance, ready to be formed again.
