The rainy season has begun and my recollection of this event brought me back to my younger days when I could hear the giggles of my brothers and me running around the garden of my mother. 
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Getting hold of myself in a frenzy of delight, several points in time into the past as the heavy raindrops dip beneath the horizon from the sky, mingling with the bittersweet expression on my face. It's raining cats and dogs that pour over the lush countryside, soaking into the vibrant blooms of my mom's beloved garden.  I can’t suppress the smile that tugs at my lips,  although the sight of the downpour fills me with a sense of unease, a reminiscence of cherished memories intertwined with the damp, earthy aroma rising from the ground. Conjuring vivid memories from my younger years, the visible scent of rain, rich and earthy, lingers in the air.
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I thoroughly enjoy the sleep-inducing mood that brings me back to perfect, innocent moments of childhood.  It's heavy dampness covers the area, wrapping it, each drop seems to carry echoes of laughter and a sweet reminder of the tender years that blossomed against the backdrop of a rainy day.

The cool, calm, and collected symphony of raindrops as they dance upon the roof, I listen as I prop myself up by the windowsill.  A spitting image of fond memories pours down on me with each soft crackling sound, and my eyes lit up, a smile spread across my lips.
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The weather-beaten afternoons, I'm floating on air back to the yesteryears of my younger days. The bright and breezy blooms whimsically moving in the wind, my siblings and I would race through the lush stomping ground of my mother's garden.

Recalling those days when we would burst out into cheers and laughter. Our voices joined forces with the rhythmic drumming of the rain when the skies darkened and the first drops began to fall. The rainy days were treasured as we eagerly waited for them when we were kids.
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Keeping up with the coolness against our skin, cupping our hands to get hold of each squeaky clean droplet, like children possessed we would charge outside. The air was up to the hilt with our delighted bursts of laughter as we were drenched in droplets of water, the world around us turning into a playground of muddy puddles and shimmering reflections.

We tagged along behind each other, our giggle in full volume through the air as we were jumping for joy and gave each one a thrill, until we collapsed onto the ground, breathless and giddy, rolling in the soft earth.
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I often get hold of myself looking back on those dear to my heart, those times when we were free and easy together. As I look back on the memories of my younger years with my siblings, every time the rain pours down, I wish we could relive those magical days once more. I hold close the happiness of our shared childhood adventures which is my only great pleasure now. A cherished treasure that I carry with me forever and always in my heart - those beautiful memories of laughter and playful mischief of the rainy days.
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Listening to the patter of droplets. I simply watch the rain fall. Let it blur the lines between past and present, between who I was and who I’ve become. For in its steady rhythm, I find pieces of myself I thought were long gone — barefoot, breathless, laughing beneath a weeping sky. The voices of yesteryears faded into time, my Mom's garden may be quiet now, but the echoes remain alive in every downpour. I always keep in mind that the rain returns each year, in the same way will the memories of the younger years, woven gently into the fabric of who I am.
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Hivers, what's a rainy-day experience that stands out in your memory? We'd love to hear your story! Share it with us!

Thank you for checking out my blog. Catch you next time around. God bless everyone!🌷💖🕊️

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> Lead and second photos edited using Canva.

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<center>All Glory and Honor to God</center>

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**[Diosarich](AboutTheAuthor)**

<sub>***A feisty artist and writer who balances her time penning poetry, soul-stirring content, and flash fiction, sketching, and designing by using fresh blossoms, needlework, gardening, baking, and caring for her partially impaired vision Mom after her intellectually and physically challenged son passed away. She explores unexpected views that ignite her zest for life.***</sub>

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