Summer Rain

I especially like the hours before the rain starts. it is like a small symphony. First it gets dark from the east and for a moment everything gets calm and quiet. Just one bird doesn't care and goes on singing as if he knows that he got his chance for a solo right now. Then the wind comes up. Slow at first, and warm, because it just moves the heated air. Time is of no matter, there will be no announcements of the schedule. But sooner or later the best part of the overture will follow: breezes of cooled, fresh air, coming in like unknown guests from far away, teasing you with feelings of anticipation because you know that they are foreboding an upcoming change.
and then you hear it: The first far roaring of thunder and i lean back. Nature will run a change now. I can't and i surely will not do anything about it. The rain and thunderstorm does it's work and i got a break, watching nature doing it's stuff uncontrolled and unimpressed.

So fed up
Just leave me alone for a while. I won't take sides. Never ever. I don't know why they always try to find a suitable drawer in which they want to sort me in. I don't care, ok? I don't have grudges, and, if i had them, that would not mean, that i take the other side. So if you could - at least for a while - leave me alone and let me walk my paths for myself?