Kiss the rain

I didn’t like the rain very much before, for all these wetness and inconvenience I just could not stand. And for a long time, it seemed to me that the rain was the representative of Satan and played its evil power in the world. I owed this to the influence of all these novels and dramas, where miserable things are always accompanied by rain and thunder and storm.

But then, one day, I just found myself fallen in love with it---the rain. The raindrops are so beautiful little elves dancing all the way from the heaven to the earth. A lot of times when I am in the rain, I just couldn’t help feeling excited, and it was like that my soul is dancing together with them, and flying to an unknown far, far away place, one beyond the secular world.

When it rains lightly, I like walking into the rain, thinking about Dai Wangshu’s beautiful poem: Alone holding an oil-paper umbrella\ I wander along a long\ solitary lane in the rain\ hoping to encounter \a girl like a bouquet of lilacs\ gnawed by anxiety and resentment.

And when it rains heavily, I like enjoying the rhythm raindrops have composed when they hit the roof, the trees and the ground. At these moments, I just cannot help wandering if the rhythm is the very one Su Dongpo heard thousands of years ago, when he was relegated to the Huangzhou.

Kiss the rain.