Just Beyond

I've never liked rain. But tonight I sleep to its soft beat against the window panes. And I feel easy. Well, there goes the fatty thunder. You never miss that. Atlanta is usually overcast, and on those days the grey looms for as far as the eye can see. But if you wait, you'll get something special. On some days you can hear the individual patter of each drop. Lightweight rain, whose wispy senders take a backseat to the scene because the sun didn't go away when it was supposed to. On those days you can see a hazy red sunset hanging lazily from the lower sky like a portrait--watching you like a cat that's not likely to go anywhere anytime soon. And it's the strangest sensation watching rain fall from the sun. On those days the roads are slick and you drive into paradise on shimmering dust. The good, the bad, and the ugly are definitely one.