And We’re All Just Singin’ In The Rain

by spaghettipirate

April is the month of showers here in Paris.

I don’t think that in the past 12 days there has been a stretch of more than 2 days where it hasn’t rained. I’m not saying that it rains long or hard particularly, more that it rains on and off almost on a stopwatch a few times a day; usually in the late afternoon.

Getting caught in them can be quite thrilling. The rain is warm and the grass smells as only a spring rain can, as the pavement releases thin tendrils of smoke as your shoes get wet working its way into your socks and you’re blinking out the raindrops from your eyelashes.

It’s warm and cloudy and just as suddenly it started, it stops, and the clouds clear making way for the sun as if to say the entire thing had been little more than a heartbeat of time – ephemeral – and leaves are glistening fresh with rain..