Summer. Dry and hot, rainy https://simonsayscasino.co.uk/ and cool, in our area it always comes more than once. And among the accompanying people there are invariably small fluffs, the seeds of a tree called poplar. For some, they cause a runny nose, forcing them to curse allergies again and again, and some hardly notice them – well, they are, so what. But it’s worth taking a closer look at these light messengers, and a lot becomes visible.
Have you ever looked at the wind? No? Maybe because we can’t see it, we can only feel a light breeze or a powerful pressure on our skin. But all air currents are also bizarre and curious in their own way.
But what happens if you just look closely at the little fluffs??
We will be able to distinguish air currents. After all, poplar seeds are so light that they move even with the slightest breeze, following the direction of the wind. And if you stock up on this small, banal knowledge and just look closely around..
It’s dead calm here, not a breath of wind. And here is a real little air tornado, cheerfully bouncing, trembling, uncertain. You look around the corner – and there is a handful of fluff dancing indecision, oscillating between two streams of air.
Or you will look out of the window into a storm and see that here, too, poplar fluff helps us see gusts of wind that are constantly changing direction – small markers are flying this way, then that way.
And many, many such small, cozy miracles can be noticed if you walk through your hometown, just by looking closely.
It’s amazing to walk somewhere in the rain, without even knowing the destination, to wander among the water threads stretching from sky to earth and just breathe. The air in the rain is somehow especially fresh and inhaled somehow… especially. No, you don’t even breathe it, you drink it, you get drunk with it with all your lungs, to the fullest. And you don’t get drunk with your mind for a second – that’s what’s nice.
And although the drops drum on the head, cut into the face, flow down the hands, causing, in a word, inconvenience, this is also somehow pleasant. Perhaps because, having gotten wet to the skin, you suddenly realize that you, it turns out, have a back and you no longer feel it as a simple tool. And not only her, you feel your whole body, your whole essence, your whole self alive. And even if your feet fall into puddles and the breeze, no, no, may make you shiver, but while you are walking somewhere through the warm summer rain, it only helps you feel more.
And so you go under a tree to take cover, unclasp your hands, and the rain changes. Now the drops fall much less often, but they themselves have become larger. Only here and now, only under the tree – a special regime of precipitation on the head of a traveler adjoining the wrinkled trunk!
Phew. The target is already very close, there is only one dash left from the tree. Although, why run at all – the rain is weak, dripping a little, and I’m not late for anything. You can walk at a pace, as I walked before. I still won’t get too wet. Hah, almost no drips under the tree at all. Only rarely, rarely does a large drop fall down the collar. There is also no point in jumping through puddles – you can’t even get your feet wet in them. A few more steps and I’m already in a dry room. But not warm. I walked into a half-empty room and sat down on a chair, like in a movie theater. My memory is weak, sensations float away, the smell of rain and the taste of moist air go away. And he himself calms down outside the window. My gaze falls powerlessly, and now I am contemplating my own knees. The last reminders of my walk are fading onto the fabric of my jeans.
Ink stains.