Rainy Season

Often at night I lay awake listening as a rain cloud sweeps across the lagoon, pounding the jungle foliage and loosening the hibiscus blossoms on the bush beyond the bedroom's balcony with a heavy downpour. Nearly dry clothes pinned to the neighbor's clothesline wave in the wind as if asking to be taken inside before succumbing to another drenching. The clouds rarely stay long, passing as quickly as they arrive, followed awhile later by another brief torrent transiting the ocean and washing over the island. I am at work as I write this. The sky was washed grey ten minutes ago, a long, low cloud covering the sunlight, rain rushing down the hills, creating rivulets in the mud and gravel of this coral land. I stand at the window watching the heavy drops bounce off parked cars and penetrate the pile of sand at the construction site next door. Gone now, the rain pushes on toward the other side of the island, to another village, to another atoll.