It started off slow. I heard the light sounds of rain, like hundreds of tiny fingers tapping on the roof. I walked over to look out the window. I could see the tiny beads of rain colliding with the window, crashing into it and racing each other as they slid down to the bottom. The moon hung in the sky like a locket. It was full and shining like a flashlight in the dark sky. So many shades of gray were painted into the clouds. The rain started to increase, beating against the roof like crinkling aluminum foil. Lighting flashed like a strobe light, illuminating the street for a fraction of a second. Thunder followed, like someone bowling a strike in the sky.
I turned around and walked towards the door, grabbing the yellow umbrella lying against the wall. I stepped outside, feeling the water lying on the street instantly soak up into my socks. Fog swayed across the street, like the setting to a scary movie. The trees danced and swayed with the wind, sending leaves soaring through the air. The cold wind brushed against my skin and sent tiny drops of rain under my umbrella. I tilted the umbrella against it, protecting me like a shield from the falling water.
The rain formed puddles in the street, which the falling raindrops smacked into. As they did, they shattered and at the same time came back together, leaving ripples swimming about in the water. The puddles of water began to get bigger and bigger as they collected more water.

The rain was like a complimentary cleaning service, generously washing the cars. It mopped the streets, sending away any litter or misplaced leaves into the sewer. It wiped the windows and the roof, cleaning from it anything the wind might have taken from the trees and sending them into the mouth of the gutter, where they was deposited back to the street.

Out of nowhere, the wind stole my umbrella away from me, sending it flying towards the other end of the street. The darkness of the night hid it from me, but a flash of lightning showed me that it was flying across my neighbor’s lawn, bringing with it anything else the wind could grasp.

Cold raindrops clutched onto my hair, only to slide down each strand like a waterslide. The water clung to my eyelashes, blurring my vision, but the raindrops fall off, running down my face like tears. The wind blew my hair out of my face, letting me clearly see the streets.

All of the sudden, I had gratitude for the wind. It stole away my umbrella because I was shielding myself away from beauty. What some may say is a natural disaster, the wind throwing around anything left on the lawn and grabbing at flowers and leaves, I think it’s beautiful. The wind let flowers and leaves fly through the air, when normally they were stuck to the ground or a tree.
I though about running back inside to grab my camera, but it could not even have begun to capture the true essence of what was happening. Cameras can only see things. They could not feel the rain trickle down their face or the wind brushing their skin.

I wished the moment could last forever, just me and the rain and the wind. I wished the wind would keep hugging me and the rain keep talking to me by its “tap, tap, tap” on the street. But eventually, everything must come to an end, and the rain started to slow. I went back inside and curled up into bed without even changing my clothes. I let the rain’s slow tapping against the roof lull me to sleep.