Rain
Sudden showers came today at around 2pm, catching everyone by surprise. The morning sky was cloudless and blue; cold as it may have been there was really no sign of any storm brewing, not until after lunch. People were caught up under the drizzle and I saw my friend completely wrapping herself under her jumper so as to protect her Elisabeth Arden from even the tiniest drop
Clutching the books in my hand and the heavy bag on my back I walked through the cold rain. This is what it is like to be in Victoria. You can never really tell what the weather is going to be like.
If I were back home, today's rain would be equated to a "leaky tap". We have more forceful downpours that can cause flashfloods and sweep away houses by the riverbank. No, today's rain was a small trickle in comparison to our daily hail of precipitation.
The chill was unbearable as the rain slowly fell over me. I must have reckoned I was going to die of cold until I saw the eucalypts around me.
There they were, standing their ground, with water trickling down their waxy leaves. And oh that scent so characteristic of eucalypts floating about in the cold 12 degree air. How beautiful they were, these plants, surviving under such harsh and unpredictable conditions. Even the wattle and the Gingko tree seemed to take the chilly shower lightly, with drops of rain glistening in the autumn sunlight...
And so was He, there He was, jogging towards me with shorts and a tee, His face completely void of any emotion other than the occasional gasp for air.
How could He bear the cold in those shorts I would never know. Perhaps He wanted to show off his oh so lovely legs. My guess is as good as yours, but there He was, jogging, shirt drenched by the drizzle. His hazel blond hair streaked backwards in a casual manner as if to suggest it was done on purpose, as if it was meant to be.
Perhaps not a Plastic by the look of His built. A chest or two showing but no defined arms or legs to match. But oh those sweet blue eyes
What if I went over and stopped him in His tracks. What if I said "HI" to Him; those eyes of his were fixed onto the path straight ahead and I Had a feeling that it was the only thing He was determined to do at that time. Could I run my fingers through His wet hair? Kiss him on the cheek? Tell Him that He's beautiful?
And before I knew it He had jogged passed me, taking whatever thoughts I had of Him and scattering them onto the wet stone pavement.
The rain didn't stop so as to suggest in its own way the meaning of this encounter.
It got bloody cold in the night, dropping below 10 degrees.
Clutching the books in my hand and the heavy bag on my back I walked through the cold rain. This is what it is like to be in Victoria. You can never really tell what the weather is going to be like.
If I were back home, today's rain would be equated to a "leaky tap". We have more forceful downpours that can cause flashfloods and sweep away houses by the riverbank. No, today's rain was a small trickle in comparison to our daily hail of precipitation.
The chill was unbearable as the rain slowly fell over me. I must have reckoned I was going to die of cold until I saw the eucalypts around me.
There they were, standing their ground, with water trickling down their waxy leaves. And oh that scent so characteristic of eucalypts floating about in the cold 12 degree air. How beautiful they were, these plants, surviving under such harsh and unpredictable conditions. Even the wattle and the Gingko tree seemed to take the chilly shower lightly, with drops of rain glistening in the autumn sunlight...
And so was He, there He was, jogging towards me with shorts and a tee, His face completely void of any emotion other than the occasional gasp for air.
How could He bear the cold in those shorts I would never know. Perhaps He wanted to show off his oh so lovely legs. My guess is as good as yours, but there He was, jogging, shirt drenched by the drizzle. His hazel blond hair streaked backwards in a casual manner as if to suggest it was done on purpose, as if it was meant to be.
Perhaps not a Plastic by the look of His built. A chest or two showing but no defined arms or legs to match. But oh those sweet blue eyes
What if I went over and stopped him in His tracks. What if I said "HI" to Him; those eyes of his were fixed onto the path straight ahead and I Had a feeling that it was the only thing He was determined to do at that time. Could I run my fingers through His wet hair? Kiss him on the cheek? Tell Him that He's beautiful?
And before I knew it He had jogged passed me, taking whatever thoughts I had of Him and scattering them onto the wet stone pavement.
The rain didn't stop so as to suggest in its own way the meaning of this encounter.
It got bloody cold in the night, dropping below 10 degrees.
Fell from the sky at 11:42 PM
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