Head in the clouds
Listening to the soothing sound of the rain, I sit stone still among a crowd of my classmates waiting for the lesson to begin. Hot air brushes around me like a warm hug, I settle down into my place while the teacher talks. It’s like she’s speaking from another galaxy, far, far away. I hope she doesn’t ask me any questions. I’m floating on those sounds from outside, of the splashing rain that patters against the window, already forming puddles on the concrete path. It’s been so long since I’ve heard rain falling, it’s almost hypnotic. I can picture the dark clouds, full and fat inside my head so vividly. I can’t take my mind off the sound. Plip-plop-splishy-splashy. Such a constant and consistent beat. The teacher has to raise her voice to be heard above the noise, but my ears are stuffed in soft cloud fluff and I drift away into them.
Next thing I know, the kids around me are moving. We go back to our classes and find a partner. Thankfully, I’m with my friend and he explains we have some writing to read together. Even his voice sounds like he’s underwater, and once again I drift away on the now softer pattering of the rain. It creates a soothing harmony of tiny cymbals and drums, a symphony of splashes. I rub my eyes and shake my head. I can’t even read the piece of writing in front of me…I wonder what we’re going to do to get this work done. How are we going to talk about this writing? But somehow we do get through it, and in no time at all we were on the move back into the other room again.
The muffled sound of sharing happens around me, and I can feel my head starting to droop and sway as my eyes start to close. All of a sudden, there’s a massive crack outside - BOOM! CRASH! BANG! Lightning and thunder dance across the sky outside the window. It’s almost enough to stop my heart! I’m in shock, my eyes now wide open, my brain clear and alert. I look around with new focus, complete clarity, just in time to hear the teacher say, “OK, that’s all for today. You can put your notebooks away.”