between seasons
It's cool at home. Which is unusual, I remember the heat of summer usually hitting around May, and the whole month is just the sun blasting its laser on everything. Weirdly, I don't feel that unusual. My factual memory is confirmed by mom and dad, but my instincts barely registered the change after moving between different climates for the past four years.
The heavy rain hardly affect me personally, but I could see its havoc on the flooded rice fields along the highway we passed on the way to T's house. "All done. These fields are all done", our driver - T's uncle, commented. Just a few days earlier, the grains were ripe and ready. Given this three-day rain, the unharvested crop will soon start to sprout and become unfit for reaping. Farmers are devastated.
So it feels almost wrong for me to enjoy the rain. Having gotten used to Cleveland weather never reaching past 85°F (29.4°C), the 35°C heat at home without AC was giving me headaches. This rain brought relief. I sit beneath the steady comfort of my cozy home, sipping hot tea, watching the leaves of the peach tree sway and twirl to the soothing rhythm of raindrops outside.
The Tower of Babel fell because God separated humans by language and culture. God may not be at it again, but this human-caused climate change is certainly harder to tackle given our separation of experiences. Between both worlds, I am made very aware.