musicalsweets
Rain. Endless rain. Millions of little droplets thundering against the earth. There against the darkened sky cracks a jagged streak of bright light. In the distance a thousand drums boom, sending tremors through the ground. The fine soil transforms into ugly, sticky mush. All the plants bend under the weight of the water, drowning. It’s cold, wet, muddy. It’s pouring in the middle of April and still you keep digging.