Raindrops: so rare during this sweltering drought; I happened to walk outside just after the falling “too-short” storm cycle and found this: water.
Stuck to plants, slipping all over, little spider pools, like nature’s slip n slide; tiny fairy balls of liquid glass. Look close, you may find yourself in the delicate reflection.
We all know the rare droplets are scarce right now, like rich crystalline assets dripping onto the Bank of Trees, paying desperately to grow or feed. Invest in moisture, water is the future. Drink while you can. 💧💦🌊🌧️☔️💙
There’s something quietly primal about sipping water drops from leaves—like nature offering you a sip of its own breath. In the early morning, when dew clings to the edges of aspen and lupine, each bead glistens with the purity of mountain air and silence.
You lean in, lips brushing the cool green surface, and the droplet slides into your mouth—cold, clean, and fleeting. It’s not just hydration; it’s communion. A moment of connection with the living world, where the boundary between self and forest softens, and you remember that sustenance doesn’t always come from bottles or taps. Sometimes, it’s gifted in the smallest, most beautiful ways.
