The Clouds Have Edges

The other morning I woke early to go for a run. I ran a few blocks when the sidewalk suddenly turned wet. It rained. Not only rained. It had poured just a few minutes earlier. I had to dodge giant puddles, weave between water reflecting orange street lights. But it had never rained at our house just a block away. The rain cloud had a clearly defined edge. It rained on one side of the street and not the other. 

I know this well from Florida. Sri Lanka has rains like this, too. A rain you can see coming down the street, then just stops. Dead in its tracks. And you stay dry. Then, the sun comes out, creating a puddle of sunshine and a rainbow. And in that bright light everything is going to be okay and everything is going to be all right. Sometimes. Or the rain marches on, soaking you. 

We've been underneath fast moving clouds, sometimes menacing and foreboding. Sometimes, they break, and rays of sunshine filter down upon you, warming your skin and lifting your spirits.  Both moments of darkness and light can be fleeting, coming and going quickly, sometimes even occupying the same minute or hour. 

The clouds have turned darker recently, the edge of the thunderstorm creeping over us. 

We're under (yet) another islandwide lockdown. The kids are starting school online (again). There's little to feel optimistic about today. We know it is bad everywhere,  but most places don't seem as bad as Sri Lanka right now. 

But the clouds move quickly, as I said. The dark clouds roll in unimpeded, but also recede just as easily. A break in the clouds can come at any moment, unexpected, but welcome.