Waking before the Storm

The luminous silver sheen of a sky heavy with rain frames the dancing ethereal mauve branches of the jacaranda tree. As I ride the train home, I trace the swaying multi-colored flowers down below through my window and as the sky above threatens to inundate us with the total weight of life and destruction, inanimate and slumbering spirits alike are summoned into movement all around me.

Sprinkled throughout the horizon, like beacons of lavender hued hope, the jacaranda tree reaches the apex of beauty just moments before a spring-time rain storm. These trees, although most abundant and common in the subtropical region of our world, are radiant and wild under rainy skies. Because of their color and beauty, they seem to belong no where else but amidst the chaos and freedom of rain and wind. Dancing and alive under the Los Angeles sky.

As I walk home, eager to both avoid and surrender to the looming rain that has already begun to lightly kiss my face, I walk through familiar streets, the wind sinking into my spirit, unrelentingly piercing through every part of me. Around every corner, towering above homes and lined all along the streets, the jacaranda peeks through with its elegant trunk and far reaching branches that cradle hundreds of clusters of fragrant purple flowers. The only radiant beauty under the grey skies, life surrounded by a colorless landscape.

Everything is enlivened by the rain winds. It is an unbound and powerful silence and upheaval, when the wind animates tree branches into a feverish dance, when human eyes are swept upward, when the earth is caressed by the heavens whose light illuminates and transforms our world, making it wonderful again, undoing and erasing the mundanity we’ve imposed upon it. When everything awakens, we again see and feel the beauty of our everyday lives.

The trees sprinkle their sweet syrupy petals from above, the wind cleanses unnecessary burdens from my spirit, and before thundering forward to do its work on another soul, it caresses a smile onto my face.

To emulate the singularity of the jacaranda, the healing power of wind, the radiance of the earth illuminated and nourished by a regenerative liquid, a spiritual life force, to again feel and see: everything is beautiful, everything lives.

I feel most alive in the moments before a storm.

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bbautistanidia

Soy mujer que escribe, mujer que ama. Viviendo entre México, D.F. y Los Ángeles, California, soy perpetuamente una mujer y amante transfronterista. Soy la mujer que vive y piensa y algún día, como escribió Giocondo Belli, mis ojos encenderán luciérnagas.

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