Sense

after the rain. In spring, rain smells of hope. There is no irreversibility of loss in it, as in precipitation at other times of the year. You don’t want to watch spring rain from the sidelines, immersed in the atmosphere of home comfort. Under it you want to live, love, hope. Count the drops, losing count, catch them with your tongue, remembering the taste of freshness of the new season.

DAO dreamer | freelance schemer | travel junkie | happy mom of two successful adult children

A heart as wild and untamed as the untrodden wilderness.