An ordinary day after the rain
When I woke up in the morning, there was still drizzle outside the window. The raindrops were thin and dense, woven diagonally like cow hair, dyeing the roofs and trees in the distance into a light ink painting. I opened the window, and a moist earthy smell hit my face, mixed with the fragrance of grass and gardenia, which instantly dispelled the remaining sleepiness. The stone pavement downstairs was washed shiny by the rain, reflecting the gray sky. Occasionally, pedestrians holding umbrellas walked by, walking lightly, for fear of disturbing the tranquility after the rain.
After washing up, I cooked a bowl of vegetable noodles. After the water boils, throw in the noodles. Wait for the noodles to float, then add a few green cabbage leaves, and finally pour a spoonful of sesame oil and sprinkle with chopped green onion. Sitting at the dining table, looking at the rain outside the window, eating hot noodles slowly, my stomach felt warm and my heart felt warm. After finishing the noodles, he put the bowl in the sink and turned to the balcony to pack his clothes. The sheets that were dried yesterday still have the smell of sunshine. When they are folded, it seems that the warmth of the sunny day has also been stored in the wardrobe.
The morning is spent tidying up the flowers and plants on the balcony. The leaves of the pot of pothos became more and more green because of the continuous rain, and the vines hung down along the railing, like a green curtain. I watered the gardenias, and the buds were bulging. I thought they would bloom in a few days. The succulents in the corner are stained with water drops, and their chubby leaves look particularly cute. After arranging the flowers and plants, I moved a chair to sit on the balcony and opened an unfinished book. The sound of rain is pattering, like natural background music. As I watch, my eyes drift to the window involuntarily, watching the raindrops falling on the leaves and the water droplets rolling down the petals.
