Rain

There are mornings where the world is simply different.  It happens suddenly and usually under the mysterious shade of night.  There is a pause and a gentle shift, and then things are...different.
The best time to spot the changes is just as the sun rolls its sleepy head 'round and stretches long, slender arms over the earth.  Here, in the gentle stirring of morning, just before the world awakes, can one see this mysterious shift.
There is a glint on every blade of grass that the sun twirls in her thin fingers around.  The fields of grass glitter like priceless crystal carpets as each shining droplet reflects the light of its many neighbors.
Around the fields the trees have somehow gone dark and bright.  Their trunks have gone black, deep, and mysterious while the leaves have become vibrant and glistening. The woods is full of a trickling whisper, it is then that one should be very still and watch because the trees begin to dance.  With the wind as their music, they roll slowly round and round like strange waves of a high green sea.  Then each tree stretches its tangled wings of branches and shakes the last drops of rain from its feather-like leaves.
In the stillness that follows one can hear the rushing of the newly flooded streams that have surged from their beds onto mossy green banks to grasp at the soft green tufts with eager fingers.  The lush pillows of moss blush a vibrant green from the attention of their new admirers.
And all around mushrooms have burst from the silky soil to scatter the forest floor with such an array of colors that one could think they had come upon the the remains of a shattered rainbow.
For a moment, the world is shifted to a place of crystal carpets, dancing trees, blushing moss, and shattered rainbows...for a moment.  And then the world wakes, and begins to spin, and fades to normalcy.

Kate