The rain falls over Stockholm

 It´s bedtime, the children are already fast asleep and I´m about to aswell. Outside the rain is pouring down.

I love the sound of the rain.

I have two special memories of heavy rainfall. One is from when I was living in in Vietnam as a child.

There used to be realy heavy rains due to the tropical moonsune clinate.

Remembering it like a movie. Me and my brother would put our bathing suites on and just run out and around while it poured down at us. There were thousends and thousends of warm raindrops and these momentan braught about a sense of freedom.

Later on in life I stayed in Singapore for a couple of years. At night when the rainperiod came me and my husband would open the doors towards the balcony. We would place a blancet on The flor and just sit down  next to eachother while quietly listening to the rain fall. While the lights of the city reflexed thou bounsing drops in Singapore River.

I´m lying in my bed writing, and the raindrops falls over Stockholm.

This rain rain that falls on earth.

My son once said something beautiful when he was only about four years old. I don’t remember the exact words in our conversation but we talked about crying and about tears. That the tears comes when we´ve been holding back to long and when we need to let go of old feelings in order to make place for new space.

He said that It must be the same in our world.

We concluded that when the rain falls It’s the worlds release of grief and tention, a way of letting go.

This is post #99 in #Blogg100

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