Morning After Rain
The scent of rain-wet cherry petals wouldn't scatter all morning. It seems to vanish when I stand still, but each time I move it catches up with me again. I'm glad I left the umbrella behind, the smell soaked into my sleeves still hasn't gone.
I watched raindrops on the bus window run a little way, stop, and run again. On the paving stones below, cherry petals lay soaked and still, clinging to the ground.
Each time the bus stopped, I could see the raindrops on the window lose the line they'd been drawing and begin again. Beside them a single wet petal dropped in the wind, just like that.
After the rain cleared, the shadows of petals spread across the asphalt grew sharper into the afternoon. Peeling a leaf from the sole of my shoe, the green scent soaked into that spot was suddenly still there.
Even after I brush off the soles, that green scent follows my steps. Whether the smell that clings tighter the more I walk is something the rain left behind, or a quiet announcement of the day's end, I can't say.
After a shower, I once saw a child discover the sky pooled in every puddle and walk pressed close to the edge so as not to step on it. That child's footsteps, like mine, carried a little air along with them.
Walking with my umbrella closed, the sound from my wet shoes isn't so noisy today. Like that child, I walked around the puddles, and the way felt a little slower.
Sunlight through the window at the end of the corridor was drying the dampness on the floor. The footprints that had crossed it vanished before long.
Around the time the wet floor dried, I was searching for the place that dampness had moved to. At the tip of the sunlight that fell from the window, yesterday's shade still remained.
After the rain, I sat on the reservoir bank. Scattered petals float on the water, and beneath them a carp passes slowly. The water seems to pause for a moment, then moves again when the wind blows.
I followed those petals. Walking along the reservoir bank, the sky reflected on the water feels farther away than the ground. The ripples spread where the carp passed take a long time to settle.
Perhaps because the rain has cleared, your shoulders look lighter today. At the crossing I saw a single cherry petal stuck to the wet paving stones.
That one leaf stuck to the wet paving stones seems to have followed me, right to my feet.