It rained cat and dog on that fateful morning. It was a Saturday morning. And, I had just woken from sleep. The heavy rain frantically drummed on our aluminum-made roof. It was as though our home was under attack by assailants with packets of sand on our roof, perhaps to first wreck our hearing, or whatever could be their motive. I woke from the noise of that and had about an hour more of rest on the bed still, just gazing at the roof. I had nothing to do out that day. So, I had all the day to myself; one of the best moments of my life. I love to be by myself.

About an hour later, it stopped raining, as though peace had been made between the heavens and the earth. I noticed it had been raining much earlier before dawn, started a little while earlier though. As usual, like I do each time it rains and on days like this, I stood up from the bed and walked to my special spot, a spot with a perfect panorama beside my glassy window. I looked through the droplets of water running down the glass by gravitational force, on the glass across to the garden. My gaze were caught in a web, as emotions like spring welled up within.

The sun smiled jovially that morning, like a bridegroom whose inlaws lavished eulogies on. However, two little fellas hanging onto a branch of tree caught my attention. I wonder how they got there, but I believe they must have spent the night there. They were wet, and obviously seemed lost. They clung unto each other in a fascinating way, like two soldiers returning from a battle, one bent over, injured and the other supporting the injured with one arm around his waist.

The cold was doing a good job on both of them. The one of the left seemed to be more vulnerable. It looked defeated by the fierce cold that accompanied the rain on its tail. The other one, on the right side, flung its feathers around the vulnerable one. After some minutes, they both stabilized. Both were wet and cold. But, they both derived warmth from each other’s bodies.

This scene lingered till the sun raised the entropy of the earth once more, and both were considerably dried to fly. They sang melodious tunes together, like a call-and-response piece. And, they hopped from one branch to the other, preparing for take-off, I guessed.

They flew away in turns, the vulnerable one first and the other one last, as though to know if the weaker one would not fly as a result of the cold. I turned and sat back at the edge of my bed and the thoughts of what just happened lingered in my mind. I could not stop the impression as it stood on my mind like a strong man would on a weaker man.

You see, all over nature is engraved without ink truths on which we must live and thrive. The rain showers on my garden and the more it graciously pours on it, the more the grasses flourish and birds find more shelter. Pollination takes place. More trees and flowers are born.

The whole cycle reverts back from evaporation from the leaves into the air, to saturation of the skies and condensations as precipitation pours down. The thunder races after the lightning across the sky, as though it had just escaped its grip, with such a heart-throbbing roar. Little life forms on the root of the trees in my garden attracts atmospheric nutrients necessary for growth, for itself and the roots of its host. Day to day pours forth wordless speeches, which cannot be heard but read by sight; for all who has eyes to see.

Photo by Natalie Collins on Unsplash

Author: Miracle Uche

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