Il pleut beaucoup.

It has been raining all day today. The skies looked indecisive this morning, wavering between a delicate sprinking or a bombardment. Rain in Chiang Mai is thicker, more substantial than the skinny little bits of water we get in California. The plump drops fall heavily and hit mango leaves with enthusiasm, perhaps even reckless abandon. When the weather decides that rain is in order, it commits without hesitation.

This early afternoon rain feels purifying. I feel far away from traffic chaos and fussy commuters, armed with brightly colored umbrellas, ready to run down anything or anyone in their way. I crave cleansing right now. Water washes away the smog and pollution of the ever-crowded city; I feel encouraged to breathe deeply instead of holding my breath. Sometimes I forget the benefits of just breathing.

Tomorrow the biggest worms I've ever seen will go out for their morning stroll, avoiding certain death from large shoes and the feet in them. I wonder at them, and how lovely it is that they only venture from their fertile havens when the air feels cleaner, renewed. A little part of me envies them.

The rainy season will end soon, perhaps late September. I'll miss it.