Last night, it rained—a heavy downpour lashed the earth for half the night.
When dawn was just breaking, the rain gradually eased up, turning into fine drizzles that drifted gently down. The clouds weren't so thick anymore, but although the sun's rays tried their best to break through, they only managed to cast a faint halo through the curtain of rain.
The drizzle went about its business, undisturbed—like strands of silver thread slashing through the sky, weaving and twisting as they fell, and finally landing softly in the woods and fields, nurturing everything, giving the world a glossy, dewy sheen.
All of nature seemed less vivid in color because of this. Through the mingling of mist and rain, things became hazy, as if the whole landscape had turned into an ink wash painting.
The Meiyu Season is about to arrive… better stockpile more dry firewood…
