March brings the rain. It starts off light, covering every branch, blade of grass and spider web with a fine mist. The droplets start to form, and patter against the side walks. They fatten and settle into a steady drumming. Puddles form, the ground softens.
The drumbeat picks up and a stream begins to run down the street. A wind picks up and changes the meter to double time, lashing the trees, driving a river down the pavement. The mud traps my feet, and water stings my face while roaring in my ears.
All I can do is clench my eyes shut and clamp my hands over my ears to shut out the madness until the world is silent again.
drowning out the world