bless the rain
The rainy season (Jangma) seems to have commenced early this year, but it is welcome because summer came fast and hard, too. The sky was light at 5am, and as I sat trying to coax myself to sleep, shadows blotted out the apathetic sun. To my bleary eyes the change was sudden, and I moved to the window to witness the last of the light disappear.
In the early morning hours Gwangju begins its hustle, so if sleep has not come by five, i'm usually left without. In the light, the drunks are returning home with loud choruses of "Tae Han Min Guk" (damn the world cup), couples on every side begin their morning quarrels, babies sputter, old men hack and talk loudly on the streets and in stairwells, and I sit enveloped in their waking life.
But today, with the clouds, everything changes.
Gwangju's hustle becomes a hush. For reasons unbeknownst to me the rain is welcome, but not enjoyed. No longer can the brash symphony of dawn be heard, it is quiet as though the city cannot breath. The first stray drops became a constant trickle, I lay down with a grin. Bless the rain and the sleep in affords me.
In the early morning hours Gwangju begins its hustle, so if sleep has not come by five, i'm usually left without. In the light, the drunks are returning home with loud choruses of "Tae Han Min Guk" (damn the world cup), couples on every side begin their morning quarrels, babies sputter, old men hack and talk loudly on the streets and in stairwells, and I sit enveloped in their waking life.
But today, with the clouds, everything changes.
Gwangju's hustle becomes a hush. For reasons unbeknownst to me the rain is welcome, but not enjoyed. No longer can the brash symphony of dawn be heard, it is quiet as though the city cannot breath. The first stray drops became a constant trickle, I lay down with a grin. Bless the rain and the sleep in affords me.
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