It's raining. Every year's first rain is a joy to watch, feel, inhale. Tiny birds in our compound which would otherwise be chattering away the evening, seemed terrified, confused. They flew helter-skelter, passing on messages to their friends. Many times I wish I could just understand what they chatter so constantly about. Do they speak about us? Us, the abnormal humans?
For the first time, I could not smell fresh earth after the rain. Wonder why? May be the earth doesn't want to entertain us humans anymore.
Comments
Post a Comment