Momentary Blindness #2

There’s something magical about sun-showers to me, there always has been. To feel the

warmth of the sun on my skin mixed with the soothing sounds of raindrops on the sidewalk

is such a soothing sensation, and to feel that atop the Palatine Hill, surrounded by such

dense history, feels unlike any other.

I hear pebbles in the walkway shuffling under people’s feet, and the leaves of the orange

trees rustling in the gentle breeze. Small clicks of the pebbles under pigeons’ little feet or

the frantic scattering under the feet of a running puppy amuse me compared to the heavy

steps of humans. I hear a family pushing a stroller with a kid running alongside it in the

distance.

Water drips onto my head from the tree that I’m sitting under. I’m sitting on my raincoat so

that the soaked wood of the bench can’t soak through to me, but that means I can’t cover

my head. I stop taking notes in my notebook, as I’m afraid it’ll get wet, switching over to

Google Docs on my phone.

Another breeze strikes the tree I’m under, causing more rain to fall on me from the leaves,

the clouds move to cover the sun, and suddenly I’m cold. Though I should probably fear

sunburn more than I do, I miss feeling the sun on my skin when it goes away. I sit in the

shade, wasting my jacket for a seat rather than bundling up against the wind, but regardless

I am comfortable. I am serene, and I am at peace.