rain

Today, rainstorms swept through the valley, and when they had ceased, they left a low level of clouds that hung just below the mountain tops, but just above the roads that passed between fields. The mountains themselves had soft, tendrils of clouds that still clung to the tree tops, misty looking fingers reaching back down to the herds of animals below, as if they were seeking the supple touch of life, to tenderly caress. The pale white fog was pouring forth from the sky like smoke from the lips of a wise and stately wizard, puffing away on his pipe. It flowed together through the mountain cracks as if to imitate the subtle nuances of gentle waterfalls. It was a momentary vision of peace, a fleeting touch of enlightenment that had to be delicately gathered in small sips, for big tractor trailers demand attention as well.