Clearing

[rejectomorph]

The rain has ceased and now the clouds begin to part. The day is silver and green, and the wet pavement shines as rays of sunlight emerge from patches of blue sky. Leaves glint, darken, then glint again. The beaded lawns host flocks of small birds. A brief sun-shower sends a cat scurrying for shelter. Cloud shadows scurry, too, as more and more blue brightens the day, the even tones of overcast giving way to intense contrasts. Full sun emerges, and the dark undersides of the translucent mulberry leaves begin to glow, the entire tree becoming a frozen fountain of green light. The air does not stir as the clouds vanish, silver edges encroaching on dark centers until there are no more than small white puffs which steam into oblivion. The street quickly dries, the wet patches shrinking like the clouds above them, until they are gone. In a short time, only the dark dampness of shaded soil under the bushes retains any imprint of the dispersed storm. All the birds are singing, and the scent of pine fills the afternoon. Spring is back.